Bad and Ruin
by Brick Frog
Summary: She slammed her hand on the hood. Sammy jumped back. In the beam of the headlight Dean could make out her dark hair, pale face. Blood streaked across her cheek. Something came at her-half insectoid-half octopus. It glowed in the dark. She caught it around the...neck...except it didn't have a neck. The head just kind of melted into the creepy bioluminescent body.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1- Thunderstruck

Dean looked from the dark highway toward his brother. Sam had fallen asleep with his head pressed against the car window, his breath fogging up the glass. Sam farted, disrupting his sleep, causing him to reshuffle his oversized arms and legs in the passenger seat. Dean stifled a laugh. Sam had woken up in a dead panic dozens of times because he didn't recognize the sound startling him was coming out of his own ass.

Dean looked back at the road, the endless stream of yellow lines ahead flickering in front of their headlights. He hated traveling through rural Pennsylvania at night. The roads weren't lit so he had to keep the brights on and the pavement was always shitty-absolutely the worst in the country, and he'd ridden them all. They hit a bad rut, sending the light from the headlights bumping up across the wall of trees that framed the highway.

As soon as the impact died down, a girl stumbled out in front of them, dead center of the road. For a second Dean wasn't sure she was a girl at all and not a deer or a ghost or a trick of his tired eyes. He swerved to avoid it or her, whatever she was. Sam woke up for real, swore under his breath. If they'd been in the Impala the swerve would've flipped them over, but they were driving a little Toyota while his baby was in for a few repairs. That dumb piece of luck saved their lives.

The gravel kicked up and the car ground to a stop. Before Sam could ask him what the hell he was doing, the girl staggered into their line of sight. She slammed her hand on the hood. Sammy jumped back. In the beam of the headlight Dean could make out her dark hair, pale face. Blood streaked across her cheek. Something came at her-half insectoid-half octopus. It glowed in the dark. She caught it around the...neck...except it didn't have a neck. The head just kind of melted into the creepy bioluminescent body. She screamed and it sounded a little too sexy for the life and death of the situation. Then she ripped off its head. Glowing guts spurted everywhere-the windshield, her face, the trembling autumn leaves behind her….

The girl looked at them. She nodded and smiled broadly.

"Hey," she said, just before she fell over.

Sam gave him a panicked look before he clambered out of the car. Dean followed. By the time he got to them, his brother already had her cradled in his arms. That was Sam, to a T. Swoop in to help the person in trouble before they were even sure they were dealing with an actual person.

"She okay?"

Sam pulled each of her eyelids back. "I don't think she has a concussion. Her pulse is strong. It's hard to tell. I'm gonna call 911."

"What if she's dangerous?"

Dean glared at his brother, the argument played out wordlessly. They'd both seen her rip apart a monster that should've leveled her ninety-pound ass.

Sam relented with a sigh, and let his gaze fall to the girl's face. "She's bleeding. We'll take her back to the hotel. I can patch her up."

The girl started shivering in Sam's arms. He held her tighter and Dean could see the softness around Sam's eyes that meant he already cared too much.

A phone rang—the sound came from the girl's jacket pocket. Gently, Sam reached in and took it out. Dean grabbed the device out of Sam's hand, ignoring his brother's reaction, and put the mobile to his ear.

"Faith, where are you? Things are getting deadly here." It was a girl's voice, a girl who seemed more irritated than afraid. A chainsaw buzzed in the background and something screamed like Mothra.

"This isn't Faith. She's passed out. Something attacked her."

"Is she going to be okay?" she asked, genuine concern in her voice.

"Yeah. Where are you?"

She grunted. "Are you a paramedic? "

"Yeah. What's your location? I'll send the police."

"I don't need you to send the police. I'm fine."

"You don't sound fine."

"Look, guy I just want to know which hospital you're taking Faith to." The irritation was back in her voice, "I know you're trying to help, but you don't need to stick your straw in my milkshake."

Dean covered the phone with his hand. "Where's the nearest hospital?"

"I don't know. I can't exactly Google it right now," Sam said.

Mothra on the other end of the line screeched so loud, Dean nearly dropped the phone, juggling it from hand to hand. He brought it back to his ear. "Are you okay?"

He heard hacking sounds, then nothing.

"Hello?" He had to stop himself from hurling the damned thing into the woods. "She's gone."

Dean knelt in front of the unconscious girl. Lightly, he shook her shoulders. "Faith, Faith. Where you coming from? Where's your friend? She needs help."

Faith's head lolled over. Her eyes popped open for a second before they drifted closed. She smiled again, that weird come-hither smirk. He couldn't tell if she wanted to screw the world or...screw the world. "More of a work thing with me and B. She's at the convent in the woods."

"St. Anne's?" Sam frowned. "You're not going by yourself, Dean."

"I won't be by myself. I'll be there with somebody named B," Dean smiled, but it didn't change Sam's expression. "I know that place is a nexus for evil demonic mojo, but we don't have a choice here."

"The last time we fought something there, Cas almost died."

"I'm not Cas."

"Yeah, you're mortal."

"Kind of. Now get in the car before Supergirl bleeds out."

Faith grabbed a hold of Sam's shirt. "I'm not Supergirl, I'm fuckin' Wonder Woman."

Sam smiled down at her.

"Point taken," Dean said. "Let's go."

Sam got into the back seat of the car, holding Faith. Dean drove them to the convent, ignoring the silent seething coming from his brother. They pulled up to the stone structure nearly hidden in the woods. There were no lights on outside, so the building looked like a hulking shadow. The headlights glittered on the slim, leaded windows that flanked the doors like eye slits. A purple light flashed inside the attached chapel on the right of the main building. A scream echoed out.

"At least I know where she is." Dean opened the door. Sam reached over the seat and grabbed his shoulder.

"Wait."

"I'll be fine. Come back for me after you get her some help." Dean pushed his way out before Sam could finish his argument. He jogged across the lawn toward the chapel. The flashes of light were coming more regular, almost like a strobe light. He stalked through the damp grass. As he got closer, the smell of decaying leaves gave way to acrid brimstone. He opened the side door, crept down the steps. In the basement, the brimstone smell got worse. He tripped through the dark toward the wooden steps that led upstairs, lit only by the ambient light from the first floor. The bright flashes from the chapel left spots in front of his eyes. He waited a second to let his eyes adjust before carefully walking up step by creaky step. When he got to the top, he saw it.

The only way he could describe the creature was to call it a land Kraken. The monster had eight thick, muscular moon-white arms writhing around a bulb of a head. In the center of that head was a spiral of pointy teeth. Purple luminescence pulsed through the whole thing. A blonde slip of a girl stood in the middle of those fearsome appendages, stabbing at the thing's head with a glowing axe. It was like a cover of Heavy Metal-the only thing missing was the fur bikini. He moved closer, knees bent and gun drawn, though he doubted a gun would have any effect on that monster. Blondie shouted some Latin as she brought down her axe. With that strike she sliced off the top of Kraken's head like it was a boiled egg. The monster's legs flailed, crushing pews with their weight. The dying monster slammed its tentacles against the wall behind the girl, taking out a swath of stone. With a deafening creak, a crack spread up from the broken, dusty wall and up to the ceiling. Dust rained down on him and everything else.

Dean thought that must have been what it felt like to regular people watching him, the feeling that he'd stumbled into a horror movie and nothing was quite real. She stood there gasping, plaster falling around her like snowflakes. Her pale hair trembled around her face. The color from the dying creature turned her skin pink and blue.

He couldn't stop a wave of awe and arousal from washing over him. She was beautiful, but more than that, the girl was epic. "Thunderstruck" started playing in his head like he was in a freaking movie.

Three things happened at that moment. He made eye contact with the blonde, he got incredibly hard, and a searing hot pain burned through his shoulder. He clamped his hand over the pain out of reflex and glanced down to see blood spurting between his fingers. She ran to him and caught him just as his knees gave out.

"Are you okay?"

"Um?" He managed to say before he blacked out.

Dean woke up to the sound of tearing cloth. He opened his eyes to see the woman crouched above him, ripping off the sleeve of his shirt. She looked so calm. Either she had the best poker face of anyone he'd ever met or this was just another day at the office for her.

"If you wanted to get my clothes off, all you had to was ask," he said.

"You're going with that?" She gave the fabric a hard yank and his vision blurred.

"Sorry," he shouted, then added quietly, "Kind of a habit."

She rummaged through a satchel that lay beside his head until she found a plastic bag that had something moving in it. The moving something looked like a black eel. She opened the bag and lifted it out.

"What is that?" He did an awkward, painful shimmy trying to inch away.

Poker face didn't care. She laid the wiggly eel thing on his wound. The object melted into his skin. He screamed, prepared for agony, but it didn't hurt. Whatever she'd given him actually soothed the pain.

"What did you do to me?"

"Stopped the bleeding, disinfected all the evil supernatural goop that got in you."

"How?"

"Magic." She waved her hands with flourish.

"That's not like any magic I've seen."

"My friend invented them. She's pretty amazing. They're medicinal spell pods."

"She a hunter?"

"Witch."

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"So did you just pimp out my soul to her demon, or is it something even worse?"

"Huh?"

He tried to sit up, but the pain came back. She caught him before he could crack his skull on the tiled floor. "Witches, they whore themselves out to demons."

"That's really sexist...I think. I can't really tell what's wrong with you." She looped her arm under his legs and before he could stop her, she lifted him up.

"What the hell?" He squirmed in her arms.

"Hey, simmer down, buddy, this building is going to collapse. We need to get out."

"How are you doing that?"

"Doing what?"

"Carrying me like a freaking toddler."

She shrugged. "I'm a slayer. We're pretty tough."

"You don't look like Tom Araya."

"I don't know who that is-" She shook her head.

"Lead singer of Slayer."

She rolled her eyes so hard he could see it in the dark.

"Right, I should know that one by now. I'm a slayer, lowercase s. I was born to fight monsters. We've got super strength and healing." She began picking her way through the rubble and the monster gunk toward the only exit. The room shone with neon guts that made it look like a post-apocalyptic roller rink.

"Is that what Faith is?"

"Yupper pupper."

"I thought there was only one slayer."

"So you're just playing dumb. That's refreshing. There used to be one, now there are kind of a lot because of white magic and sisterhood."

"You're not evil?"

"Nope." She ducked under a fallen ceiling beam. "I mean once I stole some Nazi gold, but I returned it. Now I don't even borrow my friend's Netflix password."

"The Nazi gold thing is pretty cool."

"I thought so, but the German government not so much." She stopped walking and grinned at him. As he returned the smile, he felt like a princess who'd just been rescued from a dragon by her beloved prince. He found it really disturbing.

"Put me down, slayer." Dean said as kindly as he could, reminding himself that this girl was only helping him, not intentionally collecting his balls to turn into a cute necklace. "I'm either limping out of here or I'm not leaving at all."

"Okay. I'll set you down, but if you can't walk, don't be a big manly baby about it."

She set him down gingerly. It hurt, but it wasn't the worst pain he'd ever worked through. He took a step with his arm around her shoulders for support and didn't collapse.

"I'm good. Let's go," he said.

They went through an archway in the back of the chapel that led into a long corridor. Behind them, he heard a loud crack. Wood grinding and splintering. They didn't turn around. He leaned on her heavily as they moved through the dark. She felt her way along the wall. Dean could hardly see in the black, just vague shapes.

"Our camper is parked down the road so you can rest there." She stopped.

He heard her scrabbling for something. She opened a door, letting in the wan light from the full moon. Together, they went outside. They hobbled to a white camper parked down the hill. Dean nearly slipped on the grassy slope, but she caught him. He held onto her so tightly he was afraid she might snap, but she didn't. Not at all. She didn't even falter. They got to the camper mostly under her power. She unlocked the door for him. He tumbled inside, pulling her with him. They landed on the floor in a tangle.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"It's okay."

He'd never been more embarrassed in his life. Being a burden wasn't really his thing. He was the person who carried everyone else. Not this time, though. Without a word, she lifted him to his feet again. She led him to a bunk bed, where he collapsed. Dean hadn't realized how exhausted he was. The injury must have been worse than he thought. He felt her hands on the wounded shoulder, pressing gently. It hurt vaguely, but he didn't have the energy to react. She covered him with a blanket, all the way up to his chin before she knelt beside him.

After a moment of her staring, the suspense got to be too much.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing. You've got freckles. Vampires don't have freckles."

"Does that mean you don't need to cut me with a silver knife or douse me in holy water?"

"You're so weird." She laughed under her breath. "With all the derring do, I never got your name."

"It's Dean."

"Winchester?" she asked, excited.

"How did you know that?" He opened one eye.

"You're kind of famous with people who know about the supernatural. My sister's doing her thesis on you and my friend Xander is convinced that you're not real."

"I'm real. Freckles and all." His brain caught up. "Hold on. Thesis?"

"Yeah, you're one of a kind. My watcher would have said you're singular."

"Singular. I like that." He grinned. "I didn't catch your name, either."

"It's Buffy Summers."

He tried to give her his warmest smile, but wasn't quite sure how much of that made it up to his face. "I'm sorry, but I've never heard of you."

"No big. I mean, I only died twice trying to save the world. What are you up to, six?"

"Lost count. You must be better at this whole hero thing."

She grinned, all twinkly-eyed, and Dean thought about a bunch of wholesome things he wanted to do with her, mixed in with the typical unwholesome things he tended to think about. For instance, he wanted to introduce her to Sam, which reminded him—

"I need to call my brother."

"You need to sleep." She rose and walked away from him. He was going to argue, but he remembered that he didn't need her permission. Dean tried to ease his phone out of his pocket, but the effort proved too much. He passed out.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2-Stay With Me

Faith kept going in and out as she laid on the back seat. The lanky guy had wrapped her up in a blanket, but it didn't make her feel any warmer. She was freezing. The sky in the back window was dark, starless. It reminded her of being a little kid and pretending to be asleep in the back seat of the car while her mom and dad fought in the front. She felt small and helpless like she had then, the only protection coming from being real, real still.

"Try not to move too much, Faith. The blood'll rush out faster," Sam said.

She groaned. He hit a bump and it felt like she was getting torn open all over again. Her fingers were sticky and the air had that coppery smell, like the worst fucking period in the whole, wide world. That almost made her laugh. Yellow street lights crept around the glass skin of the back windshield. They were out of the woods, but she might not be okay. The lights got blurry and she closed her eyes.

Next thing she knew she was in Sam's arms. He was real fucking strong, because those arms didn't shake around her weight. His chest rumbled with words. She heard the words but they refused to mean anything no matter how hard she tried to concentrate. Everything around her was bright white when she opened her eyes, too bright. He tried to set her down, but she cried out. "Don't leave me." Or she tried. He looked in her eyes but then he was gone. She was on a gurney, she fucking hated those. Somebody cut off her shirt and then a mask came down.

A woman, older, black hair and skin talking to her. "Breathe deep Mrs. Tyler. Rose?"

Faith wondered who the fuck Mrs. Tyler was, but then figured it was probably her tonight, because the woman saying it was looking into her face with kind intent. A few deep breaths and the world went nil.

Someone held her hand in both of his hands. She knew it was a guy because the hands were way too big and felt way too rough. The lips kissing her fingers were soft but there was a scrape of stubble against her skin. Somebody talking. He sounded tall.

"My wife and I were camping in the woods when this animal attacked her. We barely got out of there with our lives."

"You said that, Mr. Tyler, but your wife's injuries aren't consistent with that story."

"I don't know what else to tell you."

"Have you ever heard the name Faith Lehane?"

"I'm done answering your questions. I almost lost my whole world tonight. If you could maybe show a little decency."

She knew it was a lie, but her insides felt all squidgy. The chair on the other side of the bed scraped. Footsteps. "Don't go anywhere Mr. Tyler."

"Where am I going to go?" Sam asked.

The door closed. Faith opened her eyes, to see Sam gazing at her, a smile on his face.

"How you feeling?"

"Shitty. How about you, Mr. Tyler?"

"Worried, but the doctor said you're going to be fine. Your healing was nothing short of miraculous. They had to give you blood, though."

"Did we get made?"

"I think so. Do you think you could make it out of here?"

"I don't know." She tried to sit up, but it just didn't work. Her IV tubes clacked against the pole. "Shit, where did my clothes go?"

"Here." Sam pulled out a plastic bag filled with clothes—except they weren't her clothes. "I can help you get dressed."

He got her IV out of her hand. It hurt like a son of a bitch, but he was fast, and had her taped up good so she didn't lose any more of that borrowed blood. With an insulting level of efficiency, he moved her to the edge of the bed and slid a pair of panties on her. She stopped him mid-thigh.

"Where'd you get those?"

"It's okay, they're clean."

That wasn't what she asked him, but they were in a hurry. He helped her put on the jeans. They were a little small and she had to scooch into them. The shirt he took out of the bag barely fit over her tits and left her belly hanging out. That would've been cool in high school, but just then she felt like a toddler who'd grown out of her jammies. She was about to ask for something else, when he slid off his flannel and put it on her. That sweet gesture left him in a super-fitted blue t shirt. Faith hated herself for being half dead and still able to perv out to the way this dude looked in a fucking fitted t shirt. She tried to put on her own socks because every part of this was stupid, but then she almost toppled off the bed. He caught her again.

"Lay back. I'll do your laces." He rested her on the thin plastic mattress. This was the fucking worst and she was kind of in love with him for putting on her socks and then shoving on her boots. He tied them tight. Double knots.

"Who are you?" She asked.

"Sam Tyler and you're my wife Rose. We've been married six years and live in Omaha. No kids. Two dogs."

"Dogs?"

"Golden retrievers named Buffy and Dean. We need to get back to them before something bad happens. You understand, Rosie?"

"I got you, Sammy."

He leaned down, "Put your arm around my neck. I'll take you out of here."

His face was so close to hers, she figured she might as well kiss him. Faith pressed her lips to his open mouth, intending to give him a peck for good luck. He seemed like he'd been waiting for her to kiss him by the way dove into it. She didn't know why that surprised her, but it did. He tasted like cinnamon and even though everything still hurt, she got that weird feeling like she was flying. Then he ended it, and she crashed back down.

"What now?" she asked.

"We'll find you a wheelchair." He hoisted her up again, like she weighed nothing. She rested her head against his chest. It felt good. Even though they were far from safe, she felt like she was. Faith closed her eyes.

Faith woke up to screaming. She sat straight up. Street lights, dark sky, she was in the back seat of another car. Outside the driver's side window she could see the back of Sam's jacket. He screamed again, weirdly high-pitched for a dude. She fumbled her way out of the car, startling Sam and the thing he'd been grappling with—a vampire in full bumpies.

"Faith—" Sam yelled.

She grabbed the vampire off of him. There was no weapon but there was a car door. She shoved the demon face down onto the car seat and then slammed the door over and over again until the vamp dusted. For a second she and Sam just stood there.

"What the hell was that thing?" he asked.

She quirked her head at him. "Seriously?"

Her legs went wet noodle on her and she started to plummet to the ground. He caught her. Again.

"I gotta stop making this a habit with you," she said.

"What?"

The world around her got soupy and melty. She remembered talking, but the words didn't stick around long enough for her to remember what she said.

Sam said words to her—It's going to be okay, you'll be alright. You're an amazing person.

"How do you know that?" she asked.

The sun was starting to come up. His voice sounded close even though he was in the driver's seat and she was sprawled out in the back seat.

"Everything you just did, Faith. Everything you are."

"Everything I am? I killed a guy, Sammy. Stabbed him—actually two guys, but the first one was an accident. But I lost my shit after that. Nothing seemed to matter. It was like I went rotten from the inside out."

"What are you saying?"

"The old man I killed had a sweet face, but I still killed him because my dad told me to."

"Your dad made you kill people?"

Faith laughed, even though it made her belly hurt. "Not dad. Boss. But he was like a dad to me. I always need that. Like I'm always looking for him no matter what. And then I went to jail to try to make it right, but that didn't fix it. That old man is still dead. His daughter just won this award for poetry and she wrote it about him. I took him away from her. And then I lost Giles. Maybe that was fair, you know? Her dad for the guy who took care of me like a dad."

"I'm not following."

"All these men, I take care of me. They try and I need them. Then they let me down. They always let me down. Even Angel."

"You know an Angel? What's his name?"

"Angel's just Angel. He's a vampire."

"That's a new one."

"Pull over, Sammy."

"Why, do you need to be sick?"

Faith dragged herself into a sitting position, the hospital blanket clumping up around her hips like a dirty wrapper. "No, we need to fuck now. You're big, but there's probably enough room back here. Great American land barge."

Sammy's laugh sounded like a bark, so loud she jumped back a little.

"Yeah, we're not doing that, Faith."

"But I'm pretty hot, though, right? Like, I'm not as hot as I was before I went to prison, but I still got some bounce to the ounce."

"Once you come out of anesthesia completely you won't think it's such a good idea."

She flopped back down on the seat. "I'm a good idea. I'm a real good idea."

"Go to sleep. We'll talk about it more tomorrow."

"You'll be gone tomorrow. They're always gone tomorrow."

XX

Faith woke up thirstier than she'd ever been in her life with no idea where she was. She'd been sleeping in a bed, she wasn't wearing pants, but she had on panties and a shirt. She looked around the dim room—pale walls, tv set, generic art like flowers in a vase. A door that led to a bathroom, lit by some kind of nightlight by the sink. A queen bed separated from her bed by a table with a lamp. At first glance there were no guns, no chains and no vampires.

Someone was in the other bed. She jumped to her feet with as much stealth as possible. Tiptoeing, she moved around the occupied bed. The guy in it had on jeans but no shirt. His abs were crazy. He looked like he did sit ups for at least an hour a day. There was no way else to describe him except to say he was fucking long. Like his feet hung over the edge of the bed. His arms were orangutan big but proportional. He had his belt in his hand. He must have fallen asleep while taking it off. She thought about him swinging that belt and it landing on her ass and then she couldn't stop thinking about that no matter how hard she tried. His hair was so long, it almost looked like a wig. Guys didn't really wear their hair like that and it was stupid, but she kind of liked it. Did she fuck him? How could she have forgotten about fucking him? She didn't remember his name but knew she liked him a little too much.

Faith went into the bathroom and closed the door. She flicked the light on and realized the shirt she had on wasn't hers. It had to be the guy's because of the long-ass monkey arms and the way the shoulders bagged out. Her fingers ticked against a bandage as she dragged her hand across her stomach. She whipped the shirt off to get a better look. The t shirt underneath was way too tight. It ripped as she tried to wrestle it off.

Butterfly bandages stuck on her shoulders and chest, white pad taped on her belly. She peeled off the bandage and found perfect skin underneath and a thin, white scar. Whatever happened, it was over now. She turned around and tugged her panties down. No hand prints on her ass, no whip marks. So, they probably hadn't fooled around, unless she'd recovered from that, too.

Faith turned on the faucet and filled her cupped hands with water. She drank until the burning in her throat subsided. Then she splashed her face. The last thing she remembered clearly was ripping the head off that demon. Buffy had dragged her to bumblefuck PA for the end of the world part infinity. Then she'd gotten the blood in the cut. That's why her memory was so fucked. Willow had warned them that if they got monster blood in a wound or an eye it would act like a drug on a slayer. Like magic roofies. It made you pliable and forgetful and your bones would feel like they were made of sponge. Willow said it would last for a few hours, maybe more, maybe less. Faith concentrated as hard as she could on the thing that happened after she slayed the monster.

And there it was: a car almost hit her. Arms, big arms enveloping her, over and over again.

He carried her into this hotel and called her babe. She thought his name might be Tyrone or Steven. This was way more awkward than if they just screwed. She was pretty sure he'd saved her life like three times since they met and had given her his clothes. They talked, too. Bits and pieces of that came back.

God—she told him all about Angel and Giles. After she fell into bed, she kept asking him if he was awake, and she told him everything, like they were having a fucking slumber party.

She finished up and then slipped out of the bathroom. Without meaning to, she found herself hovering over him again, studying his body and his face. Before she went on the straight and narrow, she would have gotten into bed with him. Most guys wouldn't have cared, but she was trying to do a better job with asking first. Want, take, have sounds real deep but in the end, it's just stealing.

She lingered a second, hoping he'd wake up and reach out to her, pull her in bed, rip his shirt off of her. The kiss played out in her head a couple times before she went in the bathroom again to take a shower.

Sam woke up to pounding on the door. He sat up with a jerk, looked over at the other bed and found Faith gone. The shower was running. For a second he wondered if the knock was a dream, when it happened again. Sam jumped to his feet. He went to the bathroom, cracked the door.

"Faith, It's Sam. You okay?"

"Sam! Yeah."

"There's somebody at the door."

She stuck her head out of the curtain. "What do you think?"

"I don't know. But you might want to get your clothes on." Sam grabbed his knife out of one of the bags and then went to the door. Whoever was on the other side called Faith's name. Sam edged it open. Somebody in a motorcycle helmet and driving gloves stood outside. He didn't wait for an answer, just pushed his way through the open door.

"Where is she?" The stranger picked Sam up by the throat and jacked him up against the wall. Whoever he was, he couldn't have been human. Sam weighed almost two-hundred pounds and that aggro joker had him dangling by one hand.

Faith burst out of the bathroom and launched herself at the motorcycle man. As soon as the stranger saw her, he dropped Sam.

"Faith, are you okay?"

She looked confused.

"Angel?"

"Speed Racer is your buddy?"

The guy took his helmet off. He was white—super, never been in the sun—white and had black, spikey hair.

Sam rubbed his bruised throat. "Angel the vampire."

Faith knelt beside Sam, putting her hand on his shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Sammy. Are you okay?"

She didn't have any pants on and was wearing his shirt. Sam knew how it must look to this guy.

"Nothing happened, man. She was in trouble and I took her to the hospital. That's all," Sam said.

"What?" Faith and Angel asked at the same time.

"We didn't have sex. She was bleeding out and I couldn't just leave her in the middle of the road."

Faith laughed, rocking back on her heels. "You think he's my boyfriend?"

"Yeah, that's totally ridiculous," Angel said, completely stone-faced. Faith kissed Sam's cheek.

"Angel's just looking out for me."

"But you live together. You told me about it last night. He stays with you."

"Yeah, but if we banged he could lose his soul, turn into an evil killer. It's not great," Faith said.

"That's only if I achieve perfect happiness," Angel said, shifting uncomfortably. Faith stood up and walked over to the door. She locked it. Angel glanced around the room until he found a chair. He sat down, his leather pants and jacket squeaking.

Sam didn't move. He still had the knife in his hand and even though everything seemed cozy he wasn't letting it go. Faith had told him a lot the night before. This was the guy who killed her mentor, the guy who she described herself as being in love with, and torn up about and indebted to. Like Faith had inherited Buffy's baggage wholesale with this dude and she was getting a lot of second-hand angst. Angel had a hold on her that sounded wrong. He understood what that was like. His bond with Dean had slid from normal into obsessive territory a long time ago. Dean wouldn't hesitate to kill for him, and he was pretty sure Angel was just looking for an excuse to kill for Faith. Sam held tighter to the knife while the other two relaxed.

"How'd you find me, Ang?" Faith sat cross-legged on the bed.

"After we got separated during the fight, I followed the scent of your blood. It led me here."

"You left Buffy alone?"

"She didn't know I was there, and she seemed to have it handled. I was worried about you."

"What if that thing got out?"

Sam knew what they were talking about. "Buffy's okay, but Dean got hurt. She bested the thing, whatever it was."

"Melchior. He's like Cthulu's baby cousin. Is Dean going to be okay?" Faith asked.

"She thinks so, but I need to get back to my brother."

"Do you have any idea who this guy is, Faith?" Angel hooked a thumb at Sam.

"He saved my life." She looked at her hands, almost like a child being chastised. It was strange to see her mollified after all the fighting bravado the night before. But she definitely had a daddy thing. He could deal with that.

"He's Sam Winchester," Angel said as though he'd just thrown down a royal flush.

"The Sam Winchester who saved the world a bunch of times?" Faith perked up.

"He's wanted by the FBI for mass murder."

"We didn't kill any of those people."

"I know, Sammy, it's okay. Everybody knows. Why are you being a dick, Ang?"

"Because I don't trust him."

"You don't trust anybody. That's kind of your thing." Faith stood up, a smile on her face. Sam noticed that Angel looked at her legs, then glanced away, unsettled. "Look, Angel, I'm going back with Sammy. You and me can't fit on your bike, and I kind of owe it to him to make sure his brother's okay."

"You don't owe me anything, Faith. If you need to go, it's fine."

Faith's smile flickered and her eyes got sad. "Angel, can I talk to you a minute, like privately?"

"I'll go outside," Sam said. It seemed more chivalrous than making Faith step out onto the street without any pants. He stood up, still clutching the knife, and strode outside in his bare feet.

The sky was overcast and he could smell rain in the air. It was even colder in New York than it had been Pennsylvania, and he regretted not grabbing a coat. It would have been worth it to his nipples to ruin the dramatic exit.

He looked over the parking lot, hoping not to make eye contact with anyone. Faith had talked so much, he felt like he'd gotten her whole life story. He felt connected to her, even though she knew nothing about him. Maybe it was just attraction—she was gorgeous and already understood everything about his world without apology. It was easy to build a castle in the sky around her. She was dark, too, dark in the same way he was. They both felt like freaks, trying to pass as normal, trying to make things right when they couldn't be made right ever again. She enthralled him.

He hadn't been with anybody in months, and that part of him was aching, too. He was a youngish guy and he'd been living like a monk. Dean would usually roust him out of that, convince him to go to a bar and talk to a woman, but Dean had been even worse than him, lately. Sam always pretended he could go without sex, but it was bullshit. He got lonely, he got horny. Exercise cut into it a little and made him feel better about himself than porn, but there was no substitute for being with another person.

She'd kissed him at the hospital and he wanted so badly to read into that. He knew better though. There was always more to desire than just acting on it, especially when she had a vampire on her ass playing concerned parent when it was obvious what he was all about. Angel would've risked his soul on her, no questions asked. Sam had been there before, too, and knew exactly what desperation looked like. Normally he would've had some sympathy, but he couldn't manage this time.

The door opened and Angel stepped out in full gear.

"If you hurt her—" Angel pointed a gloved finger at him.

Sam rolled his eyes.

"She'll break me in half before you even hear about it." Sam ducked inside the room, wanting to end that sad little interaction before it could escalate. He locked the door behind him.

Faith stood in the middle of the room, trying to tug his shirt down a little lower, a shy smile on her lips.

"So I decided to stick around." She took a few steps towards him.

"I'm glad you did. Don't get me wrong, but I have to ask. Why?"

She put one foot over the other. "I used to be really good at this. Or maybe it was just being seventeen and smokin' hot. They always say it gets easier when you're older but not for me."

"You're still smokin' hot."

"Do you want me?"

He swept across the distance between them and kissed her, grabbing a handful of her wet hair. She had his jeans off in a second, he practically ripped his shirt off of her. She was beautiful naked, He hadn't wanted to think about it before when he was helping her at the hospital, but she was breathtaking. He kneaded her breast and she moaned into his mouth. She pulled away.

"You're really lucky, I'm one of those magic chicks that you only see in movies who can come from just having a dick inside her. All you have to do is put tab A in slot B and I can do the rest of the work myself."

"It's my favorite kind of work, though."

"Maybe for round two. I need to fuck you right now."

Sam went over to his bag and found the condoms. She threw him on the bed with so much force he almost skidded off. He barely had time to get the condom on before she took a running jump on top of him. Faith wiggled her hips until his cock slid inside her. Being encased in her body made him clench his teeth and hiss. She rolled her head back and he couldn't see her face.

"Fuck, you're tight," he said.

"Does it hurt? I've been with a couple guys who couldn't get used to it."

"No, I was worried I was hurting you."

She smiled down at him, all dimples. "I like it. Now lay back. Let me take you home."

Sam grabbed her hips. She rocked on top of him, her eyes shut. He tried to watch her but it felt way too good. If he opened his eyes and watched her he'd completely lose control. He tried to think of something else to make it last for her and went to his standard trick, muttering the incantation to exorcise demons.

"Oh God, is that Latin?"

"Yeah, sorry—"

"No, say it louder."

He repeated the incantation and she started to shake on top of him. He wondered if maybe she was possessed. When she threw her head back, he half expected black smoke to pour out. Instead she let loose with a litany of profanity. Her legs tightened around him and her whole body tensed. She screamed like she was on fire. Inside, she pulsated, wringing a bruising orgasm from him. Sam couldn't bite back his yell. She rolled off of him onto her back. They lay there panting for a moment. He was shocked it was already over and that despite that had been so good.

"Latin gets you going?" he asked.

She smiled sheepishly at him over his shoulder. "Yeah."

"Any reason?"

"A guy. I was into him and he never knew about it. I used to watch him read. I liked the way his hands looked turning the pages." Her fingers fluttered in the air, thumbing through an imaginary book.

"What happened to him?"

"It was really fucked up, Sammy. Like not good post-sex talk." She turned her head, and he could only see in profile. They settled into a heavy silence.

Usually he didn't let anyone but Dean call him Sammy, but in Faith's case, he genuinely liked it. Using his nickname felt intimate, and he found himself craving intimacy from her. Not just sex, but closeness. He wanted to know everything about her, even the bad. Especially the bad. Sam hadn't felt that way about a woman in years.

"He was my watcher," Faith said.

Sam was so lost in thought it took him a moment to remember what she was talking about.

"Is that like a teacher?"

"Yeah, but more. Giles was Buffy's watcher, and Wes was mine. Giles was like her dad, and I think Wes wanted me to be like that, but I never could. He was such a little prig. I wanted to fuck him senseless. I think part of him knew and I scared the crap out of him."

"Giles left you the house, right?"

"I told you about that last night?" She covered her eyes with her hands

"Yeah. You told me a lot of things."

"Like what?"

"That you tortured a guy named Wes who you were in love with, and later, to make it up to him, you poisoned yourself."

"It wasn't just to make it up to him. There was a whole plan and everything."

"You said that, too. It was about sacrificing yourself to save Angel."

"It worked, we saved Angel, but Wes never forgave me. Some things are too much, you know? You can't get clean anymore."

He couldn't stand her eyes looking so sad. Sam dragged her closer, so her head was laying against his chest. "I've done things, too. I couldn't fix it, either."

She turned her face up to him. Her dark eyes shined and her wide lips were still flush from kissing. Nobody had ever been more beautiful to him than she was at that moment.

He grabbed the back of her head, a fistful of inky, black hair and pulled her red mouth to his. She kissed languidly, not realizing he was ready to go again until he touched her between the legs. Faith started, backing away from him.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"It's okay. I wasn't expecting it, that's all. Usually I make the first move."

"Why?"

"Why do I make the first move? That's a fucking question. You ask all your one night stands shit like that?" She seemed a little shaken up, even while she was pretending it was a joke. This girl was so much like Dean, being in bed with her almost felt like incest.

"No, I usually don't talk much at all."

"I'm special then."

"Why do you usually make the first move?"

She took a breath and he watched her think about his question. "Control. I don't like being out of it. But part of me wants to be. When I was young, all guys were dogs. Then you get older, and you see there are dogs to the end, but there's more than one kind of guy. It's like you realize they're people. I sound like an asshole."

"No, I get it."

"Right, anyway, I was with this decent guy for a while. We broke up because he had some issues and I'm like all fucking issues. After him, I tried to be careful not to hurt a guy, because he could be decent, and want more from me that I'm not gonna give. But then it was like I could only have sex with these real dirtbags, and after I had something good I couldn't take that shit anymore. So I've been alone, not really working on my feelings of control. I saw a therapist like twice and that's what she called it."

"You want to work on it with me?"

"Why, you wanna treat me like a school girl? Spank me?"

"If that's what you're into."

She looked confused. "That's not what I meant. I meant, you probably like that."

"I like that, like it's not in my top ten, but it's not something I'd be uncomfortable doing."

"Oh my god. I can't believe I just—you must think I'm a fucking weirdo." She covered her eyes with her hands again.

"I don't, that's one of the most common fantasies in the world."

"You think I'm boring?"

"No!"

"Fuck, I'm kidding. I—we're doing like a lot of sharing and caring. It's not usual for me. So, make me feel better. Tell me the creepy shit you're into."

"Ah, you're putting me on the spot. I feel like I've got to get creative."

"Some internet guy wanted to ride me like a horse. That didn't get past coffee, though, because he kept calling me Applejack and wouldn't take off his gloves. Freaked me out."

"Yeah, I never would have come up with that."

"Three ways?"

"Hard pass. I get jealous."

"You do it before?"

"Yeah, my first girlfriend in college. She ended up leaving me for the other girl."

"I'm sorry."

Sam shrugged. "Last I heard, they're still happy. It worked out for the best."

"Bondage?"

"I get tied up three times a week. It's not sexy."

Faith rolled her eyes. "This is like picking a restaurant. Unless you come up with something, we're never gonna eat."

"Okay, I want to go down on you."

"Solid choice." She nodded, impressed. "I'm guessing you want me to reciprocate?"

"Yes. If you want to."

"Of course I want to. Anal?"

"Seriously?" Sam couldn't help getting excited.

"When I get my strap on, you're in for a lot of fun."

"Tease."  
"You like that?"

"Yeah, I do like that. Teasing is on the list."

"Do you wanna write up a contract and make me sign it?"

"No, I don't want your soul. I just want to fuck you."

She laughed. "Do you want to get some pizza and then teach me to behave?"

"That sounds perfect."

XX

Faith was a little nervous and she didn't know why. She'd been waiting in the bathroom while Sam got ready. Even though she'd done some crazy sex stuff before, this felt different. Every other time she'd let the guy pick the perverted thing they did, and it was almost like she wasn't even there if it went south. Not her fetish, not her problem. This was personal. It was about Wes and what she'd always wanted and all the horrible things she'd done. She'd ruined Wes' life completely. He'd been disgraced because of her and she'd set him on the path that ended up getting him killed.

Faith's hands started to shake.

"Faith, can I see you in here please?" Sam called from the other room.

Cautiously, she opened the bathroom door.

He sat at the little desk in the room, reading a leather-bound book. His hair was pulled back into a ponytail and he wore a tweed suit jacket with leather elbow patches. It wasn't as nice as one of Wes' suits, but it got the point across. He looked like a college professor. He even had on a pair of wire-rimmed glasses.

She wanted to giggle, because it was kind of funny, except it wasn't at all. Her belly squirmed.

"What did you want?" she asked.

"Come over here." He didn't look up from the book, but positioned himself so his legs were far apart. She didn't move—in that moment she felt exactly like she did when she got in trouble as a little kid, before she had any power at all.

"Now." Sam didn't yell, but the tone of his voice made her jump. She scampered over to him.

"Take off your clothes." He continued to ignore her.

Since she hadn't bothered to put her underwear back on, all she had to do was shimmy out of her borrowed t shirt. He let her stand there, until her nipples got so hard from the cold that they hurt. Sam licked his finger and turned the page.

"Are we, like gonna do this or what?"

"Did I give you permission to speak?"

"Were you supposed to?"

He held up his hand. "You have two words. Yes and no. That's all. You say anything else and we're done. Understand?" He cocked his head at her. The light reflected on his prop glasses so she couldn't see his eyes. It scared her to think what he meant by done. Like maybe he'd push her out the door in a borrowed coat, with no intention of seeing her again.

"Yes." Her voice cracked.

She stood there waiting for him. He read another page, before he beckoned her over.

"Lay across my lap, bottom up."

She draped herself across his legs, glad to finally do something. He smoothed his hand over the swell of her ass, before giving it a sharp smack. The jolt went through her, tensing her up for the next blow, which didn't come. Instead he stroked her back purposelessly, like petting a cat. Just when she started to relax, he spanked her again. He kept the pattern up, lulling her and then punishing her. She pressed her cheek against his knee, and clung to his leg. Without warning he slid two fingers inside her. It felt like he was stretching her, and she wanted more. She inched up to get more friction. He pressed his hand on the small of her back, keeping her still. He pumped his fingers in and out slow. By the time he stopped he had her bleating yes over and over again. He gave her five slaps with his wet hand. Somehow the moisture made it hurt more. Then he stopped, letting her sweat and gasp while he went back to reading his book.

"Kneel in front of me," he said, softly.

She slid in between his legs. Slowly, he unzipped his fly. She tried to help him but he barked, no at her.

"Clasp your hands behind your back," he said.

She obeyed, gripping her wrist in her right hand. He took his cock out. She was surprised; he was as hard as a rock. Part of her thought the whole dog and pony show had just been for her benefit. He grabbed the back of her head with one hand and used the other to rub his dick against her lips. She opened her mouth for him and he guided it in. She did her best to grip the shaft without hurting him, but he kept jamming his cock deeper down her throat. She tried to be good, but he was thrusting so hard, choking her. Her eyes watered. Faith was embarrassed—she was never this sloppy. He'd probably gotten better head from a hole in the wall.

He yanked her head back and she let go of his erection with a loud pop. His face betrayed nothing.

"Stand up."

She complied, even though she had unsteady sea legs.

"Get on all fours on the bed."

Faith did as she was told. Behind her he unwrapped a foil packet. A second later he grabbed her hips and shoved inside. Sam pounded into her. She tried to hold herself up, but her arms buckled. His body curled over hers. The rough material of his jacket chafed her skin. He had her so close she wasn't even tracking the sounds coming out of her mouth, when something cracked. The bed gave way beneath them. The mattress and the box spring landed hard on the hotel room floor. Sam didn't lose his grip on her. Even though she dropped two feet he didn't stop thrusting. Faith couldn't help it—she laughed.

"No, Faith, baby, don't laugh, you're gonna make me come."

That made her laugh even harder. Sam let out a guttural yelp and then collapsed on top of her.

"Holy cow," he said, then started giggling himself. He tumbled off of her. The impact of his body hitting the mattress made the footboard fall flat. That threw them both into hysterics. Finally, they calmed down to titters.

"That was the craziest shit. Oh my God," Faith said.

Sam's hair had come out of the ponytail and was sticking to his forehead. The glasses were gone, too, probably sitting right next to the condom wrapper. He gave her this impish look, with his eyebrow arched.

"Was that good or just—" Sam asked.

"Weird as fuck. I'm gonna go with both. I can't believe how into that I was."

"Me too. Would you want that again, or once was enough?"

"I don't think I got enough beds to do that again," Faith said.

"Not that part."

"Maybe." She cleared her throat, feeling a lot less comfortable than she had a second ago. Faith ran her hand through her hair. "It doesn't matter, though, does it? This was like a one-shot thing, with you and me."

"If you want it to be, but I'd like to see you again."

She wondered how he could be so fucking normal about everything when nothing else about them was.

"I'm going back to England in a couple weeks."

"Would you have time before then?"

"I don't know." She got out of the bed, making sure to keep her back to Sam. "We should be getting back to Buffy. We have to go to Pittsburgh pretty quick here."

"Pittsburgh?"

"It's a whole thing. Didn't your brother get hurt? Maybe you should call him." She said it casually, but she knew it would be a twist of the knife. The Winchesters were notorious for their brother thing and he was letting it down, big time.

Behind her he got up from the ruined bed. With one of his long arms he swiped and caught her hand. "I'll call him, I will, but let me go down on you first."

"Seriously? Most guys would be sick of me and my pussy by now."

"I can't get enough of you." He hugged her, his arms around her waist. She put her hands over top of his, her thumbs brushing the coarse fabric on the cuffs of his suit coat. Faith leaned back against him and closed her eyes.

"Sure baby. Let me clean up a little bit first."

She let him go and went into the bathroom. As soon as she was alone behind the safety of the closed door, she sat down on the toilet and started to freak out. Who the hell was this guy? Why would he want her when he was a big, goddamned hero? Sam Winchester saved the world. He was tight with God and he beat the fucking Devil. He killed Death. He destroyed the mother of all monsters. He couldn't want her. He should've been there with Buffy, not her. She was Faith, the killer, the bad slayer, the kind of girl who had to stop having the best sex of her life to take a piss because romantic wasn't something she could ever even know about. Faith flushed the toilet. She gave herself a bird bath in the sink.

He knocked at the door.

"Faith?"

"Come in."

He opened the door and walked in—she watched him in the mirror behind her. While she was in the bathroom he'd stripped. She started to turn around, but he put both of his hands on her shoulders, squaring them.

"No. Watch yourself."

She would have rather watched him, but the bossiness was pretty compelling on its own. He knelt down behind her.

"Spread your legs apart," he said.

She did as he asked. He started licking her the moment she did. The shock almost toppled her over. She gripped the sink so hard she heard the porcelain creak.

"Oh, fuck, that's so good."

He seemed like he was enjoying himself. She would've let him keep going, but she climaxed fast and hard. Her whole body jerked. She was holding onto the sink and accidentally ripped it out of the wall. Water spurted out of the wall onto both of them.

"Jesus Christ!" Faith screamed.

Sam scrambled to his feet. He was laughing so hard she thought he might fall over again.

"We need to get out of here, before they call the cops." she said.

"Yeah, but you should put that down first." He took the sink out of her hands. Clearly it was heavier than he thought it would be, which made him laugh even harder.

"If I ever manage to die this is going on my tomb stone."

She doubled over.

"Don't make me laugh, Sammy. We'll drown."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3- Sister Golden Hair Surprise

Dean woke up unsure of where he was, only that it was dark. He tried to sit up and bumped his head.

Panic set in. He was buried alive, again and had to break his way out. With a grunt, he started swinging punches.

The lights went on, a blonde grabbed his arms. She shouldn't have been able to stop him, but she pinned him down. She said his name until he stopped flailing. He remembered where he was, who he was with.

"Hey, you're safe. Sam's on his way." She spoke softly, barely audible over his own ragged breath and the thrumming of his heart. "I did the same thing the first time I woke up in the bottom bunk. The coffin thing."

"Yeah, right." He'd humiliated himself so much in front of this girl he had to force himself to look her in the eye. To his relief, she wasn't laughing at him-there was nothing but sympathy there. More than sympathy. Her long hair brushed the side of his face.

"So you were in the ground?" he asked.

"Yup. I went to heaven, the whole thing."

"What was your heaven like?"

"It was nothing, just peace. Warmth. You?"

"Fireworks with my brother. Being a kid again with my mom. Pie."

"I hope if I get to go back, there'll be pie." She seemed to realize how inappropriate it was that she still laid on top of him. All at once, she sat up and looked intently at his injury. "Um, your shoulder seems better."

He rubbed the unbroken skin. "I don't even think it'll scar. Do you mind if I use your bathroom?"

She jumped up, "Of course not. It's really cool in there, the toilet flushes and everything."

"That's reassuring." He got up on wobbly legs. After a few steps, he stabilized. He went to the bathroom. When he came back, he found her sitting on the edge of his bed, her hands in her lap. She glanced down shyly. For the first time, she didn't seem completely in control. He'd seen that look on so many women before. About half the time it meant he was about to get lucky. The other half, anything could happen. He decided to take a chance. Dean started to unbutton his shirt. Her eyes widened.

"What are you? What?"

"Do you have a t shirt I can borrow? This one's shredded and I feel like freaking Captain Kirk on an away mission."

She laughed a little too hard at his joke.

"I think Xander left a few things here." She hopped up, moving close to him. Her eyes never left his chest as he tugged off the tattered flannel. She reached out and touched his tattoo, warm fingers tracing the pattern. "Dawn got one after she started her research, made Xan get one, too."

"What about you? Any ink?"

"Sort of." She withdrew her hand. "Willow did a spell. She carved the symbol on one of my ribs. It hurt, but the design is safe."

"Yeah, it hurts like a son of a bitch. My friend Cas did the same thing to me. Which is just weird."

"Not really. Willow got the idea from your book."

"Did you read the books?" He cocked an eyebrow at her.

"The first one." She winced adorably. "Most of the first one and the second. I stopped after the wendigo."

"That's good. You missed the part with me getting full frontal."

"If I knew what you looked like, I would've skipped ahead to that chapter," she said.

Dean took her little flirtation as a cue. He leaned forward to give her a kiss, but she inched back. "I don't think that we should be making out-is that what you were doing or am I completely misreading you?"

"Oh no, that's exactly what I was doing." He smirked.

"Not that I'd be averse to the kissing, or the rest, but we're still mostly strangers. Would you maybe want to go out and get coffee with me?"

"You want to go on a date?"

"Is that stupid?"

"No. But that's not really me."

"I've figured out that casual isn't really me. I turn into an existential ball of self-loathing that rolls around the internet cyber-stalking."

"I don't exactly have a twitter account."

"You have a series of books. Even though having sex with you might get me to read more, I don't think it would be worth hating myself."

Someone knocked at the door. Buffy started. She scampered away from him.

"Dean!" Sam's voice boomed from outside

Buffy opened the door. Sam and Faith came into the cabin. He had his arm around the tiny brunette's waist, but his expression was grim. Faith had a swallowed-canary grin.

"We need to get out of here right now." Sam let go of Faith. The two women exchanged a look that made Faith chuckle.

"Dean are you okay? Buffy said you were hurt pretty bad."

"I'm fine. Could you give us a minute?"

"Of course." Sam edged Faith toward the exit. "They need some time."

"Sure thing, stretch. I'm sensitive." Faith winked at Buffy on her way out. Buffy closed the door behind them.

"What did you want to say?" she asked.

"I wanted to give you my numbers."

"How many do you have?"

"Six. Two of them I kind of inherited and then the rest are just in case."

"You don't have to," she said.

"I want to. You could even call me if the world isn't ending."

She produced her phone from some mysterious hidden pocket and handed it to him. Dean dutifully punched in all his numbers. When he finished, he returned the device to her.

"Where do you hang your hat?" Dean asked.

"This camper, I guess. My sister lives in San Francisco. I'm technically staying with her, but I'm basically mobile."

"If you're ever in Lebanon, Kansas, there's a diner called Rachel's On Ninth. The food isn't very good, but I end up going there at least once a week anyway. You give me a day's notice and I'll meet you there for a burnt cup of coffee any time you want."

Her smile went from wry to something else, and her eyes shone. She dove into his arms and they nearly toppled over. He kissed her. Before he knew what was happening, he'd pressed her against the wall and she'd wrapped her legs around his waist. They might have forgotten themselves completely, if someone hadn't knocked on the door again.

"Hey, you guys almost finish the long goodbye?" Faith yelled.

Dean put Buffy down. They gasped and swayed for a second, still rattled by the storm that was already moving past.

"I really hate to do this," Buffy spoke as she went over to a suitcase on the floor. She bent down and dug out a shirt. "Really, really hate to do it, but you should put some clothes on."

He laughed. She handed him the shirt and he slid it over his head. It was long-sleeved and purple, with a picture of Skeletor on the front. Not something he'd ever wear, but it was better than frostbite.

"Do I look like a tool?"

"You look like you have the power of Grayskull."

"Fair enough." He scooped her up in a hug. "Be seeing you."

She kissed him so sweetly it almost hurt. Every goodbye for him was always a toss-up, which made it even harder for him to let her go.

"See you." She gave him one last squeeze.

He went outside. In the rush that led him to that moment, he hadn't noticed how crooked the camper was parked or how near the highway they were. It was still dark, but much colder. He shivered, wondering what happened to his coat. He looked around for Sam but only saw Faith standing a few feet away, her hands in the pockets of her leather jacket. Faith grinned at him as he approached her.

"Where's Sam?" Dean asked.

"Getting the car."

"Did you two hook up?"

"Three times. It was nuts. The last time we demolished the bathroom sink, had to skip out before the room flooded. He likes it rough, even for me-"

"Whoa, okay." Dean held his hands up. "Put the paint away, Picasso, I don't need a picture."

"Hey, you asked."

"You didn't need to give me the play by play."

"Sorry for assuming you were a grown man." She huddled into a plaid Burberry scarf that he recognized as one of Sam's winter props. His brother used it when he was pretending to have money. Dean was pretty sure that scarf had won them at least a dozen pool games before they even started. Faith must have been something special for Sam to just give it to her.

"It's okay. If you knew me you wouldn't have made that mistake," Dean said.

He gave her his most charming smile, the one on which life and death had hinged so many times before. Sometimes Dean thought that smile was the most valuable thing his father had ever given him, more than the years of training or the mountains of knowledge.

It worked. She thawed under the warmth of it and the $500 strip of cashmere tied around her neck.

"I take it we'll be seeing you again," he said.

She smiled. "Yeah, I think you will."

Sam pulled up in a banana yellow Bonneville and honked the horn. Dean gave Faith a short wave. She nodded in return. He walked around the back of the car and got in the passenger side. Sam pulled away, leaving the girls behind them.

Neither spoke for a minute, they just listened to the song on the radio, "Sister Golden Hair Surprise."

"You and Faith?"

"She told you?"

"Yeah. She told me too much."

Sam chuckled. "The bed just kinda collapsed."

"No need to explain." Dean shook his head and wiped away the idea of further discussion with both his hands.

"I like her. She's troubled, but she's owning it. She's like me. Trying to come to terms with the bad she's done."

"That's not just you, Sam.".

"She's special, though."

"That's good. That's great." Dean wasn't sure if it was either of those things, but his brother seemed happy. He didn't want to mess with that.

"So, you and Buffy?" Sam asked, his tone light but the insinuation clear.

"Nobody broke any bathroom fixtures, if that's what you're asking. We're going out for coffee when we both have some time."

"Doesn't really seem your speed."

"I don't know what my speed is any more. If you don't mind, I'm gonna catch some shut eye until breakfast. Remember that diner with the meat ball omelet? If they weren't incinerated during the last apocalypse we should stop there."

"Breakfast? It's dinner time."

"How long was I out?"

"A day and a half. You were in pretty bad shape."

"And you're just coming to get me now?"

"Faith almost died in my arms, Dean. It was touch and go."

"Before it was touch and go." Dean frowned. He wasn't sure if he was bitter because they'd basically forgotten about him to go _9 ½ Weeks_ or if he was just mad because he hadn't had a chance to do the same thing.

"I had to take Faith to a hospital, she needed a transfusion. Cops pushed their way into the emergency room and I had to carry her out. There was a chase, we ditched the other car because it broke down and I stole this one. We had to drive across the New York State border. There were vampires, a breed I've never seen before, and one of them was kind of her friend, I guess. Dark hair. Sort of a Batman lite. He didn't like me. That was a whole other thing."

"Sounds riveting. I'm not being sarcastic, either. That does sound like you had a way better time than me, but after the danger was over why didn't you at least check in?"

"I did. Buffy texted me every couple of hours with updates on you. I don't think she slept."

"Can I see?"

"You don't believe me? After everything we've been through—"

"I believe you, Sam. I just want to see what she said about me."

"You're kidding."

"Don't make me take it away from you."

After making some amused, self-satisfied noises, Sam handed him the phone.

"What happened to you?" Sam asked.

"I don't know. Maybe the land Kraken made me emo." Dean scrolled through her texts. They were efficient, for the most part.

-Is Dean ok?

-Breathing normal. Doesn't seem to be in pain. Wound depth is more shallow, but I won't measure it. That hurt him too much last time. Still 14 freckles on nose.

She'd asked about Faith's well-being. Mostly Buffy sent detailed messages and Sam always responded with a solitary K. She'd cared for him obsessively over the course of thirty-five hours. Nobody outside of his family and Bobby had ever doted on him like that. Not Lisa. She might have if he'd ever let her, but he'd never gone all in with Lisa, no matter how much he'd tried to tell himself he had.

With this new girl, he hadn't had a choice. He'd been helpless at her feet in the first ten seconds. She hadn't let him down when he did his involuntary trust fall. Buffy was a hero, that's what heroes did. Part of him wanted to mistake her sense of obligation for something more.

"Here," he handed the phone to Sam, who stuffed it back in his jacket pocket. "By the way, why'd we have to get out of there so fast?"

"Faith had a thing."

Dean folded his arms and shut his eyes, resting his head against the window. He couldn't help feeling something light along the edges of his mind as he drifted off to sleep. It was good to know someone else was looking out for the world, somebody who could hold her own. Somebody who would have a person's back through the fire, the chaos and the boredom. He and Sam weren't alone any more. In fact, they'd never really been alone. It was good to remember that.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4-You're Not Good Enough

Buffy didn't want to leave, but they had no choice. She and Faith needed to get to the portal at the confluence of three rivers, which in un-mystical terms was a fountain in Pittsburgh, in order to retrieve a magical spear before a coven of former slayer vampire witches found it. And they weren't doing the—" Hey we're accidentally leading you to the thing you need to do the evil thing"—thing because the coven was already in the alternate dimension. Willow was following them through the universes with a binding spell.

Buffy wanted to sleep, but Faith had asked her to sit up front. Faith was all shiny and jittery. She wanted to talk and it didn't matter who with, or it definitely wouldn't have been Buffy.

"So did you and shorty-Winchester seal the deal?" Faith asked.

Faith's M.O. was to accuse Buffy of the thing that was bothering her. Buffy rolled her eyes.

"He's only short compared to your gargantuan boyfriend."

"I know, right? It's like they forgot to stop making him." Faith sighed dreamily. "But he's not my boyfriend. We hooked up, that's all."

"Come on. You're four dates away from picking out a dog together and naming him Mr. Grumbles. One of those smooshy dogs whose face wrinkles you have to clean with a Q-Tip. A pug. Could you imagine Sam taking care of your tiny love pug with his ginormous hands?"

Faith's steely exterior dropped for a second. "Aw. Shut up."

"Shutting up."

"I'm different than when we used to hang. Aside from all the murdery stuff, Robin and I were together for almost a year. That probably doesn't sound like much to you-"

"It does. I could only hold my last relationship together for 24-hours."

"Well, okay." Faith fidgeted a strand of hair behind her ear. "I've got a house now. A savings account. I'm almost a real person. All the stuff you took for granted, I never had. Now I do."

"And I don't anymore. What's your point?" Buffy's teeth were on edge. She couldn't be with Faith for any length of time without their interaction degrading into the same argument over and over again. Willow said it wasn't always Faith's fault-Buffy could be "passive-aggressive snarky." Dawn agreed. That had been annoying.

Faith took a deep breath. "I could have him. He could care about me. It's not a joke."

"That wasn't the part I was joking about. You're pretending you don't care, like you always did, but you care more than anyone. If you were a Care Bear you'd be Heart's -On-Her-Sleeve-A-Lot."

"Would that be funny if I knew what a Care Bear was?"

"Probably not. I haven't had a lot of sleep and the quips aren't so quippy right now."

"I keep trying to be serious with you and you keep acting like a dick."

"When was the serious? When you lied about your feelings or you said a guy who's a head taller than you is short?"

"Okay, who's lying to herself, B.? You're the one who decided she has to drive around in this little shitbox and walk the earth like Kane from Kung Fu, when everybody still loves you."

"Except for all those slayers I let down who want to murder me and the police who want to arrest me."

"You're talking to a wanted fugitive, and I still manage to be there for the people who need me without all this self-pity crap."

"That's it," Buffy stood up, "I'm going to bed, because I just spent the past day and a half being there for someone who needed me and I'm tired. Wake me up when we get to Pittsburgh. Or don't and just do it yourself."

"You don't think I could?"

"Sure you could." Buffy walked back to her bunk. She kicked off her shoes, took off her pants, and crawled under her blankets, mumbling under her breath. "Be nice to sit one of these out for once."

Was that sarcastic?" Faith asked.

Buffy didn't answer because she was already fast asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5- In Your Eyes

Buffy woke up to someone gently shaking her shoulders. Someone who smelled really good.

"Buffy, come on girl. You need to wake up," Dean said, quietly.

A huge grin spread across her face. She opened her eyes to see him sitting in front of her.

"Hey." She stretched. "You miss me?"

His eyes crinkled on the edges for just a second. "I did, but that's not why I'm here. Sam's in trouble."

Immediately, the sleepy cobwebs melted away.

"Wait, where are we?" Buffy asked as she unthreaded the elastic band from her wrist. In a few deft movements, she'd tied her hair back into a neat ponytail.

"Pittsburgh. Faith opened a portal to get the spear and got ganked on the other side."

"Does the cult have it?"

"No. She passed it to your witch friend, but Faith's on the other side somewhere. Sam went after her. The gate closed. The witch said there's something wrong with Faith's spell. We need you to open the portal back up again to find them."

"Why didn't I wake up for any of that?"

He handed her a tiny bundle of dried, blue flowers tied with a thin strand of gold, which she recognized immediately.

"A lullaby spell?"

"Who could cast that?" Dean asked.

"Only Faith, unless you snuck back in here and did it."

"I never lived here."

"You slept under my roof and left your shirt here. It counts."

"Well, it wasn't me."

"Then she must really hate me."

Buffy stood up and went to her dresser.

If Faith died it would be Buffy's fault for being unable to contain her own bitchiness. Somehow Dean's brother got dragged into it, too. Buffy whipped her shirt off. She wrestled her bra on and was in the midst of putting on a new t shirt when she spied Dean looking at her. More accurately, he was trying hard not to look, but staring at the ceiling while occasionally stealing glances. His discomfort was maybe the funniest thing she'd ever seen, but she swallowed her laughter. Buffy finished changing, pretending she didn't notice. She grabbed a backpack full of weapons and supplies from the cabinet embedded in the camper wall.

"You might want to brace yourself. Things aren't looking so good out there," Dean said.

"How not so good?"

He held her arm loosely as they took a few steps toward the door. She wrenched it open to see a purple miasma of swirly clouds above the city and scaly creatures flying in a circle above the US Steel Building.

"Pterodactyl bad." Dean shook his head, "Once you open the gate, it should suck 'Jurassic Park' back into the other dimension."

"Slayer blood out, slayer blood in. I get it. Everything always comes down to blood."

The fountain they needed to reach was in Point State Park, a little green space in the heart of the city. Faith had parked the R.V. in front of a meter. Buffy noticed fleetingly as they ran by that it still had forty-three minutes left. Everything that had happened must have just happened.

They sprinted across the pavement, over the cropped lawn. In the darkness, they passed a cluster of trees and went beneath a white stone bridge. The fountain was lit up like a Christmas star. The column of water shooting up from the center of the circular fountain burbled red then green.

Dean took her hand to help her up onto the stone lip of the fountain. She didn't really need the help, but the gesture touched her anyway.

"Do you know what you need to do next? The spell?" Dean asked.

"Willow walked us through it, but I need your help."

"Whatever you need." He looked into her eyes when he said that, which made her stomach feel a little quivery. She pushed herself up into the fountain.

"I really hate to ruin these boots, but I'm not going to a dinosaur dimension barefoot." The water was freezing, and her jeans got soaked up to the knee. She'd have to fight monsters with cold, sloshy boots.

Dean shrugged before he hoisted himself into the fountain after her. She took the handy spell bag out of her backpack that Willow had concocted for her. All she had to do was say the magic words, cut her forearm and press her blood to the leather pouch. She faced Dean, holding both his hands as she tugged him backwards to the center of the fountain. It reminded her of when she did ice skating pairs a million years ago. Dean didn't seem like a figure skater-type. Maybe someday they'd have that conversation over a burnt cup of coffee. More likely not. She took a deep breath.

"I need you to ground me here, Dean."

"What does that mean? Because I know you don't mean I'm staying here. Sam's there."

"You have to be my anchor. Your blood will pull Sam back with me. If you don't stay here, we might never get back."

Her words changed his expression from one of anger to resignation.

"What do I have to do?"

"Cut your arm, rub your hand in the blood. Place it on my heart," Buffy said.

Without pause, he took a knife out of his jacket, rolled up his sleeve and spilled his blood for her. He rubbed his hand in the blood before looking awkwardly at it.

"How do I...is over the shirt okay?"

Buffy took him by the wrist and guided his hand under her shirt. "Skin is best."

She cut her own arm with her own knife. Mingling the blood might shatter them both as they were yanked between two dimensions. Buffy took the spell pouch out of her back pack, soaked it in her blood. As she spoke the incantation, she avoided Dean's eyes.

Chafing heat engulfed her. A terrible wind howled in her ears. In an instant Dean vanished from sight and Buffy found herself standing on slick rock with the sound of an ocean roaring behind her. She arrived with her knife drawn on a stony beach beneath a cloudy, lavender-gray sky. In the distance stood a copse of trees. Above her head more pterodactyls circled. No footprints stood out in the muddy earth beyond the stones. Finding Faith and Sam without help would be nigh impossible.

Good thing she had Willow.

Buffy took a compass out of her backpack. When she clicked open the lid, Willow's image flickered above the dial all grainy and blue like Princess Leia projecting out of R2-D2.

"Help me Willow Rosenberg. You're my only hope."

"Buffy! What happened? Faith said you were gone."

"I'll explain when I get dimension-side. Can you get a location on Faith?"

Hologram Willow crinkled up her forehead. "She's about two miles away. There's someone else from our dimension with her. They both have a pretty golden aura. Everything else in this dimension is a greeny-pink, if that makes sense."

"How many greeny-pinks are around them?"

"Not a lot. Maybe one. Or Fifty. This is magic, not science."

Buffy couldn't tell if the transmission had interference or if Willow ducked.

"Great. Fifty. That won't stress my gel tips."

"This thing isn't super-fantastic at translating sarcasm, but that came through loud and clear. Do you remember how to trigger a return trip?" Willow asked.

"Their blood needs to be on the spell bag, then I say the spell."

"If you don't reach them by the deadline, you'll snap back to our dimension."

"How much time do I have?"

Willow's image collapsed, replaced with a glowing arrow pointing northeast.

"Willow! Willow! How much time?"

Willow didn't answer. The arrow hung there with dumb insistence. There was nothing left to do but follow where it led.

Buffy picked her way along the rocks, cursing her cold, sloshy boots. The treacherous beach led to a thicket of trees. All the leaves and bark had a purple cast. She followed a well-worn path between the violet colored trees. Animals scampered through the pale branches. At first Buffy thought they were squirrels, but on second look, she realized they were tiny brown lizards. Dawn would have loved it for the wacky variation in flora and fauna.

Buffy paced herself, but managed to get to the outskirts of what looked like a European Medieval village in about a half hour. The brown, square houses had thatched roofs and fabric covering the entrances instead of doors. If she'd had any doubt Faith was being held there, the other slayer's screams wiped them away. Buffy stalked silently past a pen of animals toward Faith's tortured wails. The creatures looked at her with the baleful eyes of cows, but they were dun-colored reptiles the size of pigs. No one seemed to be outside, which she found odd. The pen was being guarded by a dozy, yellow thing that resembled a stout ostrich. It hissed at her as she went by.

"Hush, mean Big Bird," she said. The ostrich guard just kept hissing.

She crept up to the hut where Faith was trapped. There were no windows, but she was able to peek around the edges of the loosely woven cloth covering the door. Faith was being held down on a bed by a humanoid lizard. Another stood by an oil lamp, sharpening a knife. Buffy stormed in, her scimitar drawn.

"Okay everybody-" Buffy trailed off as she took in the rest of the scene.

Faith struggled on a bed of straw, her belly distended. Sam knelt on the floor behind her. He held her upper body, their hands linked as she groaned. Sam was so intent on telling Faith to push, that he didn't register Buffy's presence. The lizard-people were garbed in complicated, white dresses speckled in red blood and plastic gloves. Plastic? The lizard person with the knife finally noticed the intruder and cowered, letting out a little cry. Sam's head shot up. He looked from the lizard to Buffy. His cheeks were sunken and he had a patchy beard, his long hair unwashed. His clothes were peculiar, too. He wore a threadbare, woven tunic and leather pants. Sam looked at least five years older than he had the last time she'd seen him.

"Buffy?" he asked, astonished.

Faith opened her eyes and glared at Buffy.

"Nice timing. You couldn't have shown up nine months ago with some rubbers?"

Sam let out a desperate, throaty laugh.

The lizard-person, who was holding Faith's legs, didn't acknowledge Buffy. The creature calmly looked between them, because he or she was in the midst of delivering Faith's baby.

"We have to go, now, or else the spell could pull me back without you," Buffy said.

"Oh, fuck that, B. I'm getting this kid out first."

"I'm with Faith, here. If you move her now she could bleed out or kill the baby," Sam gazed down at her.

Faith returned his look, lovingly. "He's always got my back. I made him my bitch and he can't say no."

"Jerk," Sam said, smiling.

"Either way you're outvoted, B." Faith said.

Buffy lowered her scimitar. She couldn't argue with Sam's logic, even if it meant she would lose them all. Sam spoke to the cowering lizard person in a rapid dialect Buffy couldn't place. The individual relaxed. The person easing the baby out of Faith barked a command that Sam echoed in English. Faith pushed, her face turning red, her scream loud enough to shake the roof. Sam's knuckles were white. Even then, Buffy knew Faith had to be holding back. If she'd squeezed with all her might, she would've broken his hand.

The lizard doctor spoke fast.

"The baby's head is out," Sam translated. "One more should do it."

Faith pushed, forcing the rest of the child into the strange world in which they'd found themselves. The lizard nurse with the knife took the slippery baby and handed the implement to the doctor. The doctor cut the slimy umbilical cord. Faith pushed again, delivering the red sac of the placenta.

Sam started crying. Faith reached her arms out. "Gimme the kid, Xania. Tell her I want the baby, Sam."

Xania was already placing the baby in Faith's arms before Sam finished translating.

Buffy went to the doctor, "Sam, could you tell her I need the knife?"

Sam made the request on Buffy's behalf. The lizard-person looked at Buffy imperiously, or at least it seemed that way. Perhaps that was the only way to look when one's face was covered in jewel-like scales.

"Her name is En. Bow, say her name and then kiss the hem of her garment," Sam said.

Buffy tried to hide her disgust at the thought of putting her mouth on that muddy fabric. She did as Sam told her. En handed over the knife.

Buffy took the spell bag out and wiped the wet blade on the fabric. That took care of the baby's and Faith's blood.

"Sam, can you-do you mind cutting yourself?" Buffy asked.

Faith tilted her head up. "That's B. for you. Out for blood."

"No problem." Sam cut his forearm with the knife. Buffy smeared it on the bag.

"All that's left is the magic words," Buffy said.

"Wait," Faith lifted up her hand. She spoke in the language of the people who'd delivered her child. They bowed, she and Sam bowed in return. He kissed the hems of their garments.

En and Xania filed out, their hands folded into the bell sleeves of their dresses.

"Okay we need to move. We're going to land in a fountain, so, Sam, if you could get Faith and I'll hold the baby."

"He can hold both of us," Faith clutched the newborn to her chest.

Sam nodded yes. He lifted Faith off of the pile of straw she'd been on. Buffy spoke the words.

In an instant, they were back in Pittsburgh and knee deep in water. Dean stood directly in front of her with his warm palm pressed over her heart. He started back, drawing his hand away.

"You were only gone a five count." His eyes moved from hers to look at Sam, Faith and the baby.

"It was a lot longer for us," Faith curled up against Sam's chest.

"I'll explain everything later, Dean. Right now we need to get Faith and Deena to a hospital," Sam said.

"Deena?" Dean asked.

"Our daughter."

For a second, the sound of splashing water was all that could be heard. Dean's eyes started to shine. He blinked a tear down his cheek.

"Yeah, let's go," Dean said.

They tromped out of the fountain, Dean first, then Buffy. Sam handed Faith and Deena to Dean. She grumbled in his arms.

"Took you guys long enough to find us," Faith said.

"Not in our time. I haven't even had to feed the meter on your R.V." Dean spoke through gritted teeth.

"Seriously?" Faith asked.

"Do you really think I'd abandon my brother?"

Faith got quiet. They walked in heavy silence to the R.V. They went inside, a solemn parade. Dean set mother and daughter into the bottom bunk. He looked at Buffy. "Keys?"

"In the glove box."

He went to the front of the R.V. Buffy took an extra blanket from the foot of the bed and covered Faith and the baby.

"This is all my goddamned fault, isn't it? I fucked everything up again." Faith turned her face to the wall.

Sam knelt down beside the bed. "Faith, I never would have gotten this close to you if we were here. We wouldn't have the baby. I can't regret it."

Buffy decided that was her cue to go to the front seat. Dean had already found the nearest women's hospital on the GPS. When Buffy sat down, he started the engine, waiting a moment to let her buckle her seatbelt until he put the RV in drive. The conversation Faith and Sam were having was baldly audible, but Dean didn't acknowledge it.

"I love you, Faith. Nothing's going to change that."

"What are we going to do? Get married?"

"Why not?"

Neither of them spoke for a moment. All of Buffy wanted to turn around and look at them, but she thought it would be rude. Instead she glanced over at Dean. He was utterly expressionless.

When Faith spoke, her voice creaked. "You really want me? I mean in our old hood you didn't have much choice unless you wanted to bang a dinosaur, but here there's super-powered hot chicks all over the place. And regular-powered ones, too, I guess."

"Yeah, but none of them are you," Sam said.

Buffy couldn't help it. She teared up.

"Aw, he 'Say Anything'd' her," Buffy whispered to Dean.

Dean didn't respond, aside from gripping the steering wheel tighter.

"Okay. Let's do this," Faith said.

"You mean it?"

"Yeah, what the fuck. Let's get married."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6- Heartbreaker

Dean jammed his dollar bill into the coffee machine only to have it rejected again with a metallic squidgy sound. He swore under his breath and punched the machine. His fist left a dent in the panel. From behind him, someone plunked a dollar into the coin slot, startling Dean. He looked over to see Sam, freshly showered and shaved. Sam had changed out of his refugee from Moondoor outfit, but his clothes hung on him. Wherever Sam and Faith had been there hadn't been much food.

"Hey," Sam said, with an apologetic smile. He finished feeding the vending machine.

"Faith and the baby doing okay?" Dean typed in his order.

"They're perfect."

"That's good."

They both watched the brownish liquid stream into the paper cup. The stuff didn't look so much like coffee as dirty water. Dean wished he hadn't been paying such close attention because he didn't really want to drink it anymore.

"We haven't had much chance to talk," Sam said.

Dean grabbed his drink. He looked around for an empty table in the waiting room. There were other families huddled together on the plastic cafeteria chairs who were processing the worst kind of news. He felt like a dick for not being happy. His brother was safe, getting married, had a little girl. Deena really was gorgeous, too, with a swoop of black hair and dimples. Dean already loved her-the only time he'd ever experienced love at first sight.

He had nothing to be angry about, but he was anyway.

Dean found a seat near the door, slightly away from the others. Sam sat down beside him, his height making the table look like furniture in a child's playhouse.

"Are you going to be okay?" Sam leaned in, giving him the soulful puppy look.

"I'm always okay."

"That's not an answer."

"It's true. Besides, what else were you supposed to do? Wait for me to rescue you? I couldn't even do that."

"Buffy said you helped with the spell, you grounded her."

"I cut my arm and felt her up. It was the easiest rescue I've ever been part of. I didn't even have to dig a hole."

Sam chuckled. "It still counts."

"Where are you going to live after the wedding?"

"Faith has an estate in Bath. The Bath in England. We were probably going to live there."

"Well, if it's paid for." Dean shrugged into his sip of coffee

"I'm giving up hunting."

Dean stopped, his hand hanging in the air for a second. He knew this moment was coming, but it still stung. He wondered if Sammy could see his heart breaking. There was only one thing to say, though.

"Good. Hunting is no life for a kid."

"I'm sorry, Dean."

"Don't be. You're doing the right thing. And you're gonna be a great dad."

"You think so?" Sam smiled.

"I know you will." Dean finished his terrible coffee and crushed the cup. "When's the wedding?"

"When they discharge Faith and the baby we're going to Vegas."

"That gives me just enough time to set up a bachelor party. You think Tawny's still waxing the pole?"

"I'm not going to leave my fiancée alone with our newborn baby so I can waste money on strippers," Sam said.

"Eh, maybe for your anniversary."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7-You Know I'm No Good

Buffy struggled to zip up her dress, while Faith applied her lip gloss in the bathroom mirror. The chapel was letting them use it as their "bridal suite."

"I don't remember your sister being such a spaz," Faith said.

"She's just excited."

"To meet my boyfriend. I'm not into it."

"It's not like Sam notices any women but you."

"He's probably responding to the tits. Breastfeeding hurts like a bitch, but damned if my boobs don't look amazing." Faith adjusted the halter of her white pantsuit. When they'd gone dress shopping the day before, Faith said the lacy gowns Buffy made her try on felt like she was doing drag.

"You're beautiful, Faith."

Faith threw her cosmetics in her little clutch bag. "Shut up." Her voice cracked a little, like she was holding back tears. "I'm sorry. Can you give me a minute? Tell them I'll be done in five."

"Sure."

Buffy pushed her way out of the ladies' room. The little chapel Sam and Faith rented was kind of dank and dark, with lots of simulated wood and plastic light-up pictures made to look like stained glass windows. It would have been a gloomy scene, except for the extremely happy people milling around.

Dean cradled Deena in his arms, showing her off to a dark-haired man in a long, brown coat. Dawn spoke in an animated way to Sam. Too animated. Buffy hadn't seen her that hyped up since that year she was six and ate all her Easter candy in one sitting. Sam didn't seem in need of a rescue, so Buffy went over to Dean. He smiled at her as she joined them.

"You look nice," Dean said.

"Thanks. You look nice, too. Where'd you get that suit?"

"1944."

"Is that like Forever 21 for guys?"

"No, it's a time travel thing."

"So... vintage?"

"Yeah, let's go with that. Castiel, this is Buffy Summers." Dean turned between the two as he spoke.

"Hey." She waved at him. "What are you guys talking about? Anything world-endy?"

"Not at this time. Dean was trying to convince me the baby is a genius. I've been trying to explain to him that at this stage in development his claim would be virtually impossible to prove even if I didn't know it to be false," Castiel said.

"Angels must be god's answer to Vulcans, huh?" Buffy asked.

"I recognized that reference but don't really understand the humor in it," Castiel said, his face completely unchanged.

"People say that to me a lot," Buffy said.

"Next he's going to tell me she's not the most beautiful girl in the world."

"Excuse me for a moment." Castiel looked into middle distance before refocusing on Dean. "I checked and you're not wrong. Deena is among the most beautiful girls in the world."

"Can I hold her?" Buffy asked.

Dean looked at Deena's fuzzy peach head, deliberating. "Of course." He hesitated. "Be careful with her neck."

"I know babies are Jell-O."

Dean cautiously transferred Deena to Buffy's arms. She was going to make a joke about how she'd only dropped one or two babies in her life, but the look on his face made her change her mind. He was too worried. Loving somebody could make a person stronger, or make him completely fragile, as delicate as a baby's breath. Dean seemed to be overwhelmed by that second emotion.

When Deena settled, Dean put his hand on Buffy's back, almost like he was trying to hold them both.

"This is the first time I put her down since Sam gave her to me."

"You want her back, don't you?" Buffy asked.

"Yeah, I do. I'm sorry."

She chuckled as she handed the sleeping infant back to him. Dean immediately relaxed.

Dawn approached them. She was effervescent, like a bottle of champagne in a paint shaker.

"Sam said he'll give me copies of all the documentation they collected about the Mark of Cain," Dawn said as she tugged on Buffy's arm.

"Yeah, the curse that turned me into a demon and almost destroyed the universe. Good times," Dean said.

"When do you want to sit down and talk about your life, Dean? We could do it after the wedding."

"Maybe later. I wanted to spend as much time with my brother as I can. So, I'm going to go do that." Dean left the group to go talk to Sam, who was chatting with the officiant.

"Do you think it would be weird if I gave him my hotel room key and told him I had multiple recording devices?" Dawn asked.

Purely on instinct, Buffy almost threw a punch. Instead, she lowered her voice.

"Dean might get the wrong idea."

"That's the plan. I guess that would make it the right idea." Dawn flipped her long, brown hair back. Buffy could feel her face turning red. No matter how embarrassed it made her, she had to speak up, or things could get even more humiliating.

"I think we might be dating?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know. I won't go in depth with the research," Dawn said.

"Good. Also, ew."

"I was always more of a Sam girl anyway, but that's obviously not happening. Faith's already tried to murder me once."

Buffy glanced around, hoping nobody had been paying attention to their conversation, when she noticed Castiel staring at Dawn, his mouth agape in a stunned silence.

"Castiel, have you met my sister, Dawn?" Buffy asked, in a normal tone.

Dawn clapped. "Cas! I am so excited to meet you!"

The angel fixed Dawn with his preternaturally still gaze. "You are the most exquisite thing I've ever seen. I have existed since the beginning of time and I've never known a being like you."

Dawn deflated and Buffy put her arm around her sister.

"Dawn's kind of sensitive about her keyness."

Castiel took Dawn's hand. She didn't resist, but she seemed more surprised than pleased.

"You shouldn't be," He laced their fingers together. "You're a refulgent star."

"What do I look like to you?" Dawn asked.

"The physical personification of hope."

"That's a Pictionary stumper," Buffy said. Neither Castiel or Dawn acknowledged that Buffy had spoken.

"I've never seen what I really look like. I guess it's a green, glowy ball of light."

"After the ceremony I could take you to a secluded location and show you your true form."

"Sure, okay," Dawn said, half entranced, half repelled.

Buffy lowered her voice to a whisper, her head touching Dawn's. "Do you really want to do that? He's older than you."

"Look who's talking. Besides, you already called dibs on Dean."

"You're turning into a thesis groupie."

"I don't mean to interrupt, but your attempts at discretion are pointless. I can see everything at all times. Also, I'm standing directly in front of you. Technically my vessel is older than yours, Dawn, but you've existed since the creation of the universe. We're the same age."

"God, you're so hot and unsettling. Let's go sit down and you can tell me more. Faith will probably be out any second."

Buffy's sister led him away to a pair of folding chairs where they sat down. Buffy began walking to the bathroom to collect the bride, when Faith came out of her own accord. Faith went up to Dean first. She eased Deena out of his arms.

"There's my baby," Faith said.

"I got her something," He reached into his pocket and pulled out a white hat with a ribbon rose on top for a tassel. "Since you're not carrying flowers."

Faith smiled warmly. "Thanks."

He put the dainty hat on his niece, the contrast with his broad, scarred hands all the starker for the slim ribbons. Sam put a hand on Faith and Dean's shoulders.

"Let's get started," Sam said.

Buffy took her place off to Faith's side, her maid of honor, even though she was an outsider to the proceedings in every other sense. Faith was closer to her than any of the other slayers, but they weren't friends. There was too much animosity, too many betrayals. Most of those were Faith's, except for that big one on Buffy's side. That one she couldn't really be forgiven for, no matter how justified it had seemed at the time. Faith didn't have any real friends aside from Angel, who hadn't shown despite repeated phone calls. Maybe he didn't want to see Buffy, thought it would be too awkward. Or he was afraid Buffy would kill him if he showed up again. She hoped that wasn't true.

The bride and groom exchanged their vows. Any lingering pity for Faith disappeared. Faith wasn't alone at all-she had her best friend right next to her, a child who would be a font of unconditional love and a big brother. It was beautiful and good and made Buffy feel kinda jealous. She could never just be happy for Faith, it always had to have an ugly twist.

Buffy glanced from the bride and groom to Dean. Without the distraction of the baby in his arms, she noticed how amazing he looked, like the leading man in one of the old movies her mom used to love. Dean noticed her looking and caught her eye. He winked at her, which was kind of sexy. Then he crossed his eyes, which wasn't. Somehow he managed to keep one eye focused on the tip of his nose while forcing the other one to point to the side. She had to keep herself from dissolving into giggles. By the end of the short ceremony, tears were streaming down her face.

Everyone clapped when Sam and Faith kissed. They both kissed Deena, too. The officiant, a thin man in a black suit and bolero tie, spread his arms expansively. "You have five minutes to clear out before the next ceremony. Mazel Tov!"

Dean walked over to Buffy and put his arm around her. She laughed silently into his side.

"We got reservations at a steakhouse across the street," Sam said. He noticed Buffy and touched her shoulder. "Hey, are you okay?"

Sam's face was suffused with concern and Faith seemed irritated.

"Weddings make me cry," Buffy said.

Faith arched her eyebrow, "Okay, weirdo. Let's get going. Other people's love bums me out."

Sam and Faith turned around to go. Buffy gave Dean's nipple a hard pinch. He yelped.

"Later," he said, and with that she lost it and started laughing out loud.

Even though they had reservations, they still had to wait because the steakhouse was packed. It wasn't bad. The interior had real wood paneling instead of the fake stuff across the street, sumptuous leather chairs that were super-comfortable. Also, they served alcohol. Faith couldn't drink because she was breastfeeding. In fact, she started feeding Deena as soon as they sat down. Sam abstained as an act of solidarity, draping his long frame on the arm of Faith's chair. Buffy sat next to Dean at the crowded bar. Cas and Dawn went to the furthest corner of the room, away from everyone. He sat on a cafe chair and she sat on his lap. As far as Buffy could tell, they weren't talking, just gazing creeptastically into each other's eyes.

Dean tapped Buffy on the shoulder and pointed them out.

"Do you maybe want to collect your sister?"

"She's 30, sober and they're not doing anything wrong. Why don't you rein in Cas?"

"Too scared. What do you want to drink? It's on me."

"Something girly. Do they have beer?"

"What, like craft beer?"

"No, most of those taste like a melted Yankee Candle. I'll just have what you're having."

"Scotch?"

"Yeah, I'll sip."

Dean flagged down the bartender and ordered them two Scotches, the brand Giles used to drink. Giles had given her a tumbler full after they'd survived Sunnydale. She had no idea at the time that it would be the last time they would ever stay up all night talking. Dean faced her and his smile faltered.

"You alright?" he asked.

"Always. Is there something on your mind?"

"There is. I talked things over with Sam and Faith. I'm going to England with them."

The news hurt, but after a second to process, she knew it was the only move that made sense. She'd fantasized about driving across the country with him, but she realized she'd been romanticizing the whole thing. Dean had been unconscious for the majority of their time together. He might have driven her crazy if she was forced to spend days in the car with him. The cheap motel part still sounded like a lot of fun, though. She smiled, hoping to cover her disappointment.

"You're going straight?" she asked.

"Ish. I'll still hunt. They have a barn on the property they're not using. Plan is I'll convert it for them and live there."

"You're a carpenter?"

Dean puffed up a bit. "Master carpenter. Except all the certification is under the name Dean Van Halen."

The waiter set their drinks in front of them.

"When did you have time for all that?"

"When we first started hunting, Sam and I weren't so big on the credit card fraud. We'd take odd jobs. The first time we were separated, I quit hunting, got into construction because I knew I liked it. How do you make money, now that you're not stealing Nazi gold?" He took a sip of his drink.

"Cam girl."

Dean choked on the mouthful of liquor. He coughed into his fist. Buffy patted his back until he regained some composure.

"No judgement, I swear," he said.

"I'm kidding."

"So there's no chance I could subscribe?"

"Not for cash."

"What about fair trade?" He slid off his bar stool. "I could dance for you." Dean shimmied his shoulders. "I could lay a little Achy Breaky on you."

"Nude line dancing, like at the swinger's convalescent home?"

He arched his back like Mick Jagger and pouted his lips. "You love it."

"Stop enticing me with your body." She giggled.

The lights in the bar flickered ominously. Dean stopped dancing and she hopped to the floor. The windows rattled, a howling wind went through the restaurant. Everyone ducked down, checking their phones to see if there was a tornado warning. Buffy and Dean went to Faith. Sam had already shielded her.

"Angel?" Sam and Dean said at once.

"Could it be Lucifer?" Sam asked.

The noise and shaking stopped. Patrons poked their heads up. Dawn came out of the bathroom, smoothing her messy hair down. A few seconds later Castiel came out, half his shirt untucked. Dawn kept exaggerating every gesture in an attempt to look casual. She noticed everyone staring at her, and her wooden ease intensified. Dawn walked up to Buffy.

"Hey, what's everybody looking at?" Dawn asked.

Castiel stopped behind her and put his hands on her waist without acknowledging anyone else in the party. He gazed at her face like he was drinking her in with his eyes.

"What were you two doing back there?" Buffy asked.  
"Nothing," Dawn said, "It's not what you think."

"She's correct. What we did is beyond human comprehension," Castiel said.

"He's as big as the Chrysler building," Dawn said, before clapping her hands over her mouth.

"Gross, there's a kid here." Faith wrinkled her nose.

The hostess approached them holding an armful of menus, "Strummer, party of seven?"

"Um, Cas and I are going to go." Dawn looked suitably embarrassed.

"Yeah, that's probably for the best." Dean said as he helped Faith to her feet.

"Congratulations on your nuptials," Castiel said to Sam and Faith. He shepherded Dawn toward the exit. "Dawn, I find it interesting that you choose to inhabit only one dimension."

"What? I don't know how to not do that."

"I can teach you. At this instant, you exist in twenty-three." Castiel held the door open for Dawn.

Buffy watched them walk out and the oak door swing shut behind them. She turned to Dean, "I'm never going to get used to this."

"Keep drinking. It helps." Dean put his arm around her.

Dinner was nice. Buffy was the only one besides Deena who didn't get the steak, but the salmon was good. Faith and Sam regaled them with tales of the dinosaur world.

"So we're bonding over the fact that our parents would never let us get a dog, right? And then this little lizard about the size of a terrier drags itself into our campsite. Something bigger got a hold of it, chewed it up good. Sam picks the thing up and does freaking first aid on it. With our first aid kit."

"The poor thing was suffering."

"Yeah and then you shared all your food with it, and it's not like we could bomb into the bodega down the block and pick up some Alpo. This was meat we stalked with sharpened fucking sticks and grubs he dug out of the ground." Faith gesticulated with her fork, the bit of steak on the end trembling.

"Rutteger was a good pet!" Sam couldn't be as animated as his wife, since he held Deena.

"He tried to claw my eyes out."

"And I skinned and cooked him, didn't I?"

Dean and Buffy share a horrified look.

"The only time I enjoyed that fucking animal."

"That went really dark, guys," Buffy said before swallowing a gulp of wine.

"She's right. Maybe don't tell that story in front of my niece."

"Hey, there was a point to that horrible story, aside from Sam's pet being delicious. That dumb lizard was the only thing we ever fought about the entire time we were there. In the end, I mattered more."

"Aw, that's kind of sweet in a twisted way. Like a Twizzler." Buffy downed the rest of her wine.

"I'm not really in a position to reinstate dad's rule about not keeping animals of any kind, am I?"

"Sorry, Dean," Sam shifted Deena onto his shoulder, "we're getting a dog."

"We already know we're getting one of the kind with the fucked-up breathing-a Pekingese. We're gonna call it Gizmo."

"But shelter dogs-" Sam said.

Faith cut Sam off.

"No, we're rich now. We're going to get a mutated rich person dog. What did you call Pekingese dogs, babe?"

"I called them genetic abominations created by unchecked human vanity," Sam said.

"Yeah. That's what I want. They'll be judging me anyway, why not get an abomination that looks like it could star in a Gremlins reboot? I'm not even going to feel bad because it'll be better fed and get better doctors than I did for the first 27-years of my life." Faith's phone jangled. She checked the screen. "Angel's on his way. I guess he just finished killing a nest of vamps."

Buffy took her napkin off of her lap and set it on the table next to her plate. Faith shot her a look. Buffy ignored it.

"That's my cue to get out of here. I should really check to make sure Dawn hasn't become a being of pure energy that could rupture time-space, anyway." She took three one-hundred dollar bills out of her purse and handed the money to Dean. "Dinner's my treat."

"No," Dean said.

"I insist," Buffy said.

"Thanks, B. You don't have to do that," Faith seemed genuinely touched. Sam had a mouthful, but he nodded and smiled.

"I saved a psychic who keeps sending me winning Lotto tickets. It's no big. Besides, I didn't get you guys a wedding present." Buffy stood. Dean rose at the same time.

"I'll walk you out."

She went around the table and met him. He slid his arm through her bent elbow. They walked out of the dining room together and she had to resist the urge to put her head on his shoulder. Just short of the door, he stopped.

"Wait, there's something I need to talk to you about. Do you have a second?" Dean looked a little nervous.

"Of course." She spotted a couch near the door. They sat down, close. She had to crane her neck to look at his face. "What's up?"

"I wanted to give you something." Dean took what looked like a skeleton key out of the inside pocket of his suit coat. "Sam and I talked about it and we agreed you should have this."

He handed her the silver key. She held it at eye level. It looked very old and there was an odd star enameled on the top.

"What's it unlock?"

"We have a home base, a place we stay. It's a repository for all the information you could possibly need for what we do. That'll get you inside. You can stay there as long as you want."

"Dean," she spoke softly. "That's way too generous."

"No. It would be wrong to waste the bunker while I'm helping Sam. Giving it to you is the right thing to do. You're the only person I'd trust."

"Thank you." Buffy kissed his lips. He wrapped his arms around her and she started to melt into a syrupy puddle. Maybe he did want her to be a partner after all. She hoped so-she wanted to try.

The door of the restaurant opened with a jangling bell. Someone cleared his throat loudly and she thought whoever it was had to be pretty rude. Then he said her name. Buffy and Dean broke apart. Angel stood right in front of them, staring death. Buffy felt all the warmth that had been moving through her burn up into rage.

"You got a problem, chief?" Dean asked.

"Hey Angel. I was just going."

"What, are you leaving Faith's wedding with some joker you picked up?" Angel asked.

"Well, I was hoping," Buffy looked up at Dean. He smirked back at her, then the expression evaporated.

"Son of a bitch! I can't believe I'm gonna say this, but I told Sam I'd babysit tonight."

"So you're screwing the manny?" Angel grinned.

"I am not the manny. I'm a concerned uncle. And what the hell business is this of yours anyway?"

"I'm her soul mate."

"Soul mates generally tend to have lower murder rates than you," Buffy regretted saying it immediately, because of the pain on Angel's face. She hated that she still cared about hurting him after all this time. Dean leaned down and whispered in her ear.

"You want me to dust him after Faith goes to bed?"

"Don't you dare."

"So he's not lying about the soul mate thing?" Dean asked, more curious than jealous.

"I don't know anymore."

Dean kissed the top of her head, then spoke in a normal voice while pointedly looking in her eyes. "How about I drop in, give you a wake-up call tomorrow morning."

"Okay."

"You like sausage?"

"What?" Angel asked.

"Pig in a Poke. It's delicious, you get breakfast sausage and wrap it in a pancake. Come on man."

"Sounds sticky," Buffy said.

Dean nodded his head in an exaggerated fashion, "Oh it is."

Angel looked like a popcorn kernel that was about to pop, except all glowering and full of menace. Buffy felt guilty for playing along with Dean. It was childish.

Discretely, she squeezed Dean's hand. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Sure thing. If you need anything before then, you know where I am," Dean nodded at Angel. "I'll tell Faith you're here. She'll be happy."

"You do that," Angel never broke eye contact with Buffy. Dean left to rejoin his family. She was grateful he didn't amp up the macho posturing on the way out the door.

"I guess anybody's better than Spike," Angel said.

"Hey, you had sex with Spike, too. You've got no room to talk."

"Point taken, I guess." Angel shuffled his feet. "Dean smelled off. Not quite a vampire-"

"He's like me. He came back. I guess he was even a vampire once, but he got better."

Angel looked like he was strangling something that wasn't there. "That shit-kicking oakie got Shanshued? He steals my destiny and my girl?"

Buffy put her hand out, "First off, so much wrong with that statement I don't even want to unpack it, because it will explode. But he wasn't reticulated like you and Spike. He was that old kind with the retractable fangs. They don't die and rise. They get infected. He killed the vamp that made him and it worked as a cure."

"Reticulated?"

"It's a Willow word. When she found out there was more than one kind of vampire she decided to set up categories. It means you grow the little bumpies." She played her fingers over her forehead to show him where his bumpies grew.

"I thought that kind died out."

"They did, but they came back. There were demons trying to bring about the apocalypse and yadda, yadda, yadda. You know the drill."

"Right. So, when you say he came back, you mean from the dead?"

"Yup."

"I don't trust him."

"That surprises me not at all. After what happened between us the last time we were together, I can understand why you'd want to talk about Dean, but he doesn't matter when it comes to you and me. Nobody took me away from you. You betrayed me."

"I'll always love you."

"I wish you didn't. We're bad together, Angel. The worst. We're better off far away from each other." She skooched off the couch.

Angel blocked her and grabbed her wrist.

"Buffy-"

"Angel, don't be that guy. Come on. You're better than that."

Reluctantly, he let go. She pushed past him.

All the happiness she'd felt, all the hope from Dean's gift, had drained out.

"This isn't over," he said.

She guessed that was supposed to be romantic or whatever. Buffy didn't turn around to keep the drama going. She was way too tired.


	8. Chapter 8

Dean approached the table where his brother and new little family sat. Faith had finished her dinner and was holding the sleeping baby while Sam fed her forkfuls of white cake drizzled in raspberry. Dean hated to interrupt the scene because frankly he found it adorable, but a gray beam of misery was about to train its light on them and he thought they should know.

"Angel's here. I know he's your friend and all, but he was being a pissy little bitch with Buffy when I left. Things seem like they might get real stupid," Dean sat down, considered picking up the dessert menu himself then decided against it in case he needed to stake someone.

Faith snorted. "Oh, are they acting like retards again?"

Sam, coughed. "Faith, you can't say that."

"What, is retard bad now? I don't get it."

"It's punching down. You're picking on a group of people who can't defend themselves," Sam said.

"But what about that retard strong thing?"

"Okay, we need to get back in the game here." Dean clapped his hands together, startling Sam and Faith back to attention. "Buffy can take care of herself, but she might take this whole place down in the process. We need to get everyone out through the kitchen." Dean started to arrange a model out of the salt and pepper shakers to explain how they should proceed, when Angel approached them.

"Hey Ange!" Faith grinned at him. Sam gave Angel a short, awkward wave and a fake smile.

"Buffy get out okay?" Dean asked.

"She's fine," Angel scowled, refusing to look in Dean's direction. He could see why Sam called the dude Batman lite. He was all Bale growl and Kilmer gravitas-so not much.

"I want you to meet our daughter, Deena." Faith tilted the baby up so Angel could see her.

Angel cocked his head. A real smile softened his eyes.

"She's sweet. That dimensional portal thing had a huge impact on my son, too."

"What's Connor doing now?" Faith asked.

"Got married to a girl named Rory, works at an ad agency. They have a son."

"That's great," Faith said.

"Rory's a cute name," Sam said. Faith looked at him askance. He shrugged. "What? It's cute."

"I've only seen my grandchild once. Conner doesn't want his wife to meet me."

"The whole never aging thing. Yeah I get that. Sounds like a good call," Dean said.

"Dean," Sam said, quietly, a warning in his voice.

"What? We all got man-pain. There's no reason to share it with people you've only known for five minutes."

"Dean!" Sam and Faith yelled at once.

"Right, so how about me and Sam take Deena, let you two kids catch up," Dean asked.

"Are you sure you want to leave your kid with him, Faith? I mean, I could take her. Dean could catch up with Buffy."

Dean was about to raise his voice, when Faith spoke up.

"Um, my husband's brother who she's named after? Yeah, I trust him with my kid. Dean's gonna be living with us to help care for the baby."

"So he really is her manny," Angel smirked.

"I'm her freaking body guard!" Dean started to get out of his seat, but Sam stopped him by putting a heavy hand on his shoulder.

"Does that mean you're kicking me out?" Angel asked.

"No, man. It's an estate. You're welcome on your section of the estate. Like the guest house. You got a guest house, right baby?" Sam asked Faith.

"Yeah, babe. We're rich. You're solid, Ange. You won't even have to rearrange your weapons to make room."

"You let it have weapons?" Dean whispered to Sam. Sam just shook his head.

'I can hear you, Dean. Vampires have super hearing."

"Oh, yeah, I remember that. I was a vampire with a soul once, too," Dean said, knowing from what little Buffy had explained that would really annoy Angel.

"You know, I was the only one and now it's like a trend. Everybody thinks it's all so easy," Angel griped.

Faith got up and patted Angel's shoulder, "I feel you, big guy. Sammy, can you take the little baby and the big baby before Angel and Dean try to whip them out and measure them? I'm going to get Angel here a drink to make him feel better."

Dean laughed. He couldn't help it. Angel's sour face made it even funnier.

Sam walked over and scooped Deena out of Faith's arms. He smiled briefly at Angel, his tight, uncomfortable smile. "Babe, I'm going to help Dean settle in with Deena's stuff at his room."

"Yeah, he's got to teach me to use that Pack -n- Play thing," Dean grabbed the diaper bag from the floor.

Sam kissed Faith's cheek. She looked a little hurt, a little worried.

"Am I gonna have to collect you all sloppy drunk from Dean's room when I get back?"

"Hey, a promise is a promise. I won't even have a beer."

"I'll drink it for him. Drinking for two," Dean said.

"Not with my kid in the room. I'm serious," Faith was suddenly ferocious. Dean dialed back.

"No problem, Faith."

"Sorry, I just-"

"Don't apologize. Deena's your daughter. You make the rules."

"Thank you." Faith seemed surprised, as did Angel.

Sam kissed his wife one more time as she helped him wrap Deena in the baby sling. Sam and Dean left the restaurant. Their hotel was only a few blocks away. Dean had a room across from Sam and Faith. He hoped the place was really soundproof, like it claimed on the website.

As they walked, Sam sneaked a glance at him. "This must be so weird for you. It's weird for me and I had a while to get used to it. You've had what, a week?"

"It's weird, but we've had weirder. At least you're here, Sammy. We can deal with anything, even your happy, little accident."

Sam laid his hand against Deena's tiny face. "Deena wasn't an accident. We planned to have her."

"Why would you risk Faith's life like that on purpose?"

"In that world, we were refugees. No rights, a ton of prejudice against mammals, too. The first time I spoke in their tongue, the Tong thought it was a trick. They didn't think monkeys had the capacity for speech. The only way to get to a somewhat industrialized area was for us to form an official pair bond and have a baby. Faith made the call. I'll never regret it."

"I didn't know you were used to it like that. You gave up on me coming for you?"

"I had to take care of her. Not rescue her in the physical sense, but give her a reason to keep going. Faith didn't know you like I do and she couldn't understand what you're capable of. I had to make her believe in me so that she'd keep fighting. That meant going all in."

Dean couldn't process all that-there were too many feelings in one place. But it was another one of those moments when he was forced to acknowledge Sam wasn't really the kid brother any more. He was a grown man.

"I'm proud of you. You did what you had to do to keep your family together," Dean said.

"You're okay with this-"

"I'm always okay. Besides, I like Faith. She's a firecracker, keeps you in line. Deena is literally the best baby I've ever met. Do you ever notice how she keeps her eyes open? She's just taking it all in."

"I know. Faith doesn't believe me, but you can already tell she's going to be really smart."

"That's what I said!"

"You don't mind watching her tonight?"

"Of course not. I mean, I used to change your diapers when you were a baby."

"Could you stop bringing that up all the time?"

"Nope." Dean grinned.

"Well, thank you anyway. We wouldn't have much of a wedding night otherwise."

"It's nothing. Besides, like I'm going to let Angel take care of my niece? He's a freaking vampire and she's delicious. Why tempt fate?"

Sam was quiet for a beat. He wrapped his arms around Deena.

"Yeah, I'm not okay with him being our house guest, but Faith feels like she owes him."

"Well if you ever need me to move him out in a dustpan-"

"I can handle it. Faith had a nervous breakdown. He pulled her out of it and got her to get help. She has to be the one to tell him to go."

Dean suddenly felt worried in a way he hadn't before. The side of Faith he'd seen was coarse and funny. Blunt. But she didn't seem unstable. That added a wrinkle.

"Is she okay now?" Dean asked.

"It's a process."

"Maybe Cas could take a look at her hard drive, give her the healing finger gun."

"Her brain, her call," Sam said. "Like I said, we can handle it."

Dean could see the discussion was through. There was a world that only Sam and Faith had been privy to. No matter how close he and Sam were, Dean knew he couldn't approach those experiences now. It hurt his heart, but in a funny way dazzled it, too. He wished he could explain it to Sam better. It was kind of how he felt when he looked at his niece. It was too beautiful and terrible to really understand. He just let it wash over him.

"I wish dad could have been here today," Dean said.

"Yeah. Me too." Sam looked down and smiled wistfully at his daughter.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9-Ego

Deena spent the night sleeping like a baby, which contrary to the saying meant she'd gotten up every three hours screaming in terrible fits of hunger. Faith had given him some vials of milk she'd expressed at the beginning of the night. He'd hidden his squeamishness well. The breastfeeding didn't bother him at all-that was natural and not really a big deal. It was the fact that Faith had handed him warm milk pumped out of her body. After she left, he shuddered as he put them in the mini-fridge.

"This freaking thing should be filled with whiskey," he muttered.

Dean read a bunch of things about co-sleeping online, so he knew that was bad-except maybe not that bad. The jury was still out. He spent most of the night just carrying Deena around because when he set her down in her Pack -n- Play, she'd wake up. They watched the dawn together. He'd never felt older in his life. At some point, he nodded off in a chair, until a knock at the door woke him up. He answered, expecting Sam and Faith.

Instead Buffy stood in the hallway, looking freshly showered and styled. She was gorgeous and he looked like he'd been road hauled for a few miles.

"Hey. Looks like you're still on baby duty." She held up a paper bag and a coffee carrier with two cups nested inside. "They didn't have a pig in a poke at the restaurant downstairs, so I got you a sausage biscuit."

"You're the best."

"Here's hoping, since you haven't had me yet. I mean it. The sandwich. I hope you like it." She was cute when she was nervous.

"It's food. I'll like it."

Buffy came into the room and he closed the door behind her. She took in the taut sheets and square corners on the bed.

"You didn't sleep at all last night, did you?"

"A little bit on the chair."

Buffy set the food down on the coffee table before reaching out to hold the baby. "Here, let me take her."

"If I put her down, she'll cry."

"She won't. Trust me. I've got tons of childcare experience. We set up a little nursery for slayers with kids and I'd do a shift every once in a while."

Dean held Deena against his shoulder. He could barely stand up; he was starving and he'd had to pee for the past hour. It was time to admit he couldn't pull all-nighters like he used to. He had to put the baby down. Slowly, he placed the infant in Buffy's outstretched arms. Deena didn't make a peep. Buffy smiled at him.

"You got a little spit up on your shirt." She shrugged her left shoulder.

He looked and realized it was more than a little spit up. It looked like Deena had glazed his whole sleeve. "It's in my hair, too, isn't it?"

"Oh yeah. Was she flopping around like a water wiggle?"

"Son of a bitch. Do you mind if I take a shower?"

"Not at all."

He ducked into the bathroom. When he came out, showered, shaved and relieved, Buffy had placed Deena in her Pack n Play. She sat on the edge of the bed reading a newspaper. As soon as she saw him, she hopped to her feet and threw the paper over her shoulder.

"Feel better?" She strode up to him like the floor was a catwalk.

"Much. Thank you."

Her hand was on the belt of his robe and she was undoing the hasty knot. Before he could form

a solid thought, she touched his chest and kissed him. It was nice. Way too nice. He broke it off, but Buffy still stood close with her hand on his hip, just above the waistband of his boxers.

"Maybe we shouldn't do anything in front of the kid."

"She's asleep. We could be really, really quiet."

"I don't think I physically can with the baby here."

Buffy ducked her head down. "I'm sorry, you must think I'm super-freaky. I'll go."

He hugged her. "Don't go, please. If she was ours, it'd be different, but I can't tell my brother that the first time I babysat his daughter I banged in front of her."

"You're right, and I'm never going to eat pie in heaven."

He kissed her cheek. They sat down. Dean devoured the sandwich she brought, mainly because she brought it. She sipped her coffee, edgy, while she tried not to watch him eat.

He swallowed the last bite, "What's on your mind, Beyoncé?

She laughed. "Beyoncé? Because I slay?"

"That and Faith calls you B. And because sometimes I watch her videos with the sound off."

"You're missing the best part. Also, you're kinda gross."

"I did feel bad after 'Formation' came out."

"Good enough. You want to lay down for some totally non-niece traumatizing cuddling?"

"Sounds wholesome, but I want to do it anyway." He took off his robe. It felt good to see her looking at him. She stood up and kicked off her shoes, which happened to be crazy-looking stripper platforms. It fit with the rest of her outfit, a blue, stretchy dress that hit at mid-thigh and was backless except for a few, criss crossed straps.

He picked up one of the shoes. "You're not like any hunter I've ever met."

"I'm feeling a backhanded compliment coming on." She settled on the bed.

"Nothing like that."

They laid down facing each other, almost nose to nose.

"When Sam and I go out, we put on a uniform. Even if it's not a costume, the clothes are all about surviving. I've been wearing the same stuff since I was eight. The women I've fought with were pretty much the same. Not you. You do whatever you want."

"I guess it's a pride thing. The first time I died-god that's like a normal conversation for you, right?"

He grinned at her. "Right."

"Anyway, the thing that did it, he did it on the night of a formal. I wore this dress my mom bought me, because I knew it was coming, and I wanted to get the chance. He got snarky about my outfit. Then I got better, and I decided if all they see is the dress, they're never going to see me coming. Plus, it's like, when am I going to be regular Buffy? There's no reason to save cute outfits for when I'm not fighting, because I'm always fighting."

"I feel like that about my car. It's flashy, but without it, I'm not me."

"I get that."

A stray lock of hair fell in front of her face. He smoothed it back. She shivered, her bare shoulders pinched near her face. Dean put his arms around her and she snuggled against him.

"You're nice and warm," she said.

"We should get under the covers. You've got goosebumps."

They covered up and she hugged him, her eyes shut tight.

"Do you want to try doing the long-distance thing, Dean? I know you're kind of a player. If it's too much, I don't want to push you."

"Player? Maybe when I was when I was younger, not so much now. You wouldn't know it by looking at me now, but I used to be cute."

She laughed.

"Used to be? You still act like you think you're adorable."

"Nah, not like when I was younger. It was easy, then. Girls liked me. I screwed up at first but in my 20's it was perfect. I had a system down. No one got hurt. We wanted the same thing without breaking anybody's heart. Then I aged out of it. Now it's complicated."

"You're just trying to make me feel better."

"My hand to God. Who I've met. Dating you long-distance will not be a problem for me. I haven't been with a woman in probably a year."

"Did you pick up a demon or something?"

"No, she was human, but it went south. It went south real bad. She took me to her place, where her seven-year-old was waiting up for her. No baby sitter. The kid was petrified because he got up in the middle of the night and she wasn't there. She freaked out, crying. Scared the kid all over again. I put him to bed, then I talked to her. Her husband died earlier that year, and she'd been slowly falling off the wagon ever since. Instead of getting laid, I ended up getting her to call her AA sponsor. Turns out I was her rock bottom."

"Ouch, I'm sorry."

"I never told anybody about that before, not even Sam."

They didn't speak, the pause getting heavier with each passing second.

"I thought weird hook ups were the only thing guys were allowed to talk about, or is that just when the weird involves a Sailor Moon costume?"

Dean laughed with relief that she'd chosen to go the joke route after all that accidental soul-baring.

"Do you have a Sailor Moon costume?"

"No, but that's what the Internet's for."

"Yeah, we're not gonna have any problems at all."

Dean couldn't help it-he nodded off. Through his sleepiness, he heard the baby whimpering, but then it stopped. He sunk back into a dream about working in an ice cream parlor where everyone kept paying with salt.

And then Sam shook him awake.

"Dean, come on. We're going to miss our flight."

Sam looked better than he had in a while. The shadows beneath his eyes were gone and his skin had lost its grayish cast.

"Where's Buffy?" Dean rubbed crust out of his eye. "Is Deena okay?"

"Deena's with Faith in our room and Buffy had to go. She left you a note." Sam slapped the envelope on Dean's chest. Dean covered it with his hand.

"We didn't have sex in front of your daughter, Sammy." Dean got up and began hunting for his clothes. Someone had already packed his suitcase.

"It doesn't matter, man. She wouldn't remember anyway."

That raised Dean's hackles. He'd missed two chances with Buffy, and now Sam was telling him he didn't even care. "Then why did you want me to watch her last night?"

"Faith and I wanted to sleep together the whole night. We've never shared a real bed before."

Dean sighed, all his fight gone. "How was it?"

Sam grinned. "Unreal. I never thought it would happen. I never thought I could be this happy."

"That's good. That's," Dean hugged him. "Awesome."

"Okay, okay. This would maybe be less awkward if you had some pants on."

Dean let his brother go.

"Yeah, they're not going to let me on the plane like this," Dean said

"I guess it depends on who your TSA agent is."

Faith sprung for first class tickets, and booked them under the last name Ciccone. On the drive to the airport she kept singing, "Bitch, I'm Madonna," and insisting that he and Sam had taken her name. It was Dean's first real taste of being a fourth wheel and it left him feeling a little sore.

Sam and Faith and Deena all had their own row. Faith bought an extra seat for the baby and for Sam's legs, a cost that was well worth it. Dean's seat was in the row behind them on the aisle. It wasn't bad. An elderly woman and her son sat next to him, speaking quietly together. The drinks cart went around. He nearly ordered a Scotch, but then remembered Faith's rule about not drinking around Deena. The last time he quit drinking, the shakes were so bad Cas had to do a hard reboot on him. After that, he'd cut down, but he was still worried. If he started to get that anxious feeling, he'd just order a drink and ask for forgiveness on the ground.

Dean waited. A half hour later, his hand was still rock steady. He flagged down the flight attendant and ordered a coffee. When it came, he settled in to read the letter Buffy left him. He didn't like to admit to himself that he'd been dreading reading it. A letter seemed too formal. Ominous, even. He ripped open the envelope and took the sheet of paper out with an air of indifference he didn't really feel.

 _Dean-I'm writing this while I watch you sleep, again. We need to spend more time together when we're both conscious. I'm going to miss your face while you're gone. I printed out your mugshot and now there's a copy of it in my wallet. Not the old one where you look like a scared kid-the one where you're giving good duck lips._

 _You're different than I thought you'd be. You're goofier and more decent. It's hard for me to meet a decent guy. Most of the men I meet turn out to be monsters. Literal and figurative, but mostly literal monsters._

 _You're hot, too. You're so hot you make me feel stupid when you look at me. I just want to giggle and bat at your face. That's right, you make me drunk cat stupid. You're so hot that I'm glad we didn't have sex-even though that sounds like it doesn't make sense but totally does. Hang on for the next sentence. If you left me in the morning after our first night together, it would have made me sad. I wouldn't be as sure about you as I am right now._

 _I'm sorry I won't be here when you wake up. Willow just got a line on something big in Wyoming. Don't worry. It'll be handled before you land. Don't be afraid of getting bored-you'll have your plate full in U.K. Brits invented spooky old houses and restless spirits. If you need me, call. Don't wait for the world to end. -Buffy_

Dean read it over a few times. He was sure before he saw her again he would read it over a few more.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10- More Than A Feeling

Wyoming was a snap. Buffy was irritated that Willow thought it was an original slayer kind of problem, but her friend's rationale was that Buffy was already a wanted fugitive.

The Mayor of Cheyenne had turned into a vampire. Any slayer could have knocked that one out in a few hours, but not without coming to the attention of half the police department. Buffy did it quiet, in the middle of the night. She was already in Kansas by the time anyone could reasonably notice he was gone.

She drove all night to get to Kansas. Buffy got out of the RV and looked at the storied bunker. It was beautiful from the outside, in the base of what looked like an old dam. The metal door was down some concrete steps, embedded in a brick archway. The mound of earth looked like a Hobbit hole. She took her phone out and dialed.

"Hello," Dawn said.

"Guess where I am."

"You're going to have to narrow it down, considering you're you."

"The place with more info about the Winchesters than fifty whole Internets."

Dawn made a strangled sound, half whoop, half death rattle.

"Oh my god! What's it like?"

"Peaceful. If I text you coordinates, how soon can you get here?"

"Um, I don't know. Castiel needs me right now."

"He's an angel. He doesn't really need anything."

"That would be true, but he lost his wings. He can't travel or do a lot of the stuff he once could."

"Does he need you to research spells or something, because you can totally do that here." Buffy tried hard to hide her disappointment. She was practically chirping.

"No. My energy, like my keyness is what he needs. When we merge, it heals him."

"Dawnie, you're a grown woman and there are a lot of rooms in this bunker. You can merge all you want here."

"It's not like that. It kind of is, but it's way, way more than that. Also, it's really dangerous. You remember the Tunguska Event? Flattened about 80 million trees in Siberia?"

"It's all over my Pinterest. Is that what you do when you merge?"

"Only if it goes wrong. We've been taking steps to make sure it doesn't kersplode like that, but I want to keep you out of the blast radius."

"I get it. When will all this merging be complete?"

"I don't know, but I want to see it through. There's so much I didn't know I could do."

"Well, don't be a stranger. Love you, Dawnie."

"Love you, too."

They said their goodbyes.

Buffy tucked her phone away. She went to the entrance of the bunker and tried the lock. The key turned. Coming there should have been incredible, but not being able to share it with Dawn muted her joy. She opened the door. Dean warned her she'd need a flashlight to make her way through until she could find the fuse box. Buffy took out her penlight and turned it on. She felt like Agent Scully. The fuse box was right where Dean said it would be. Buffy threw the switches.

It was gorgeous inside, all marble, brick and polished hardwood. The art deco touches reminded Buffy of her mom. Joyce would've gone crazy for the architecture and the fixtures. Giles would have thrilled at the sight of all those books.

Buffy went from room to room. Willow would love the old computer system. Xander would have appreciated all the work that went in to construct the building. She could imagine him going all heartsick over the tongue and groove joices. When she got to Dean's room, she didn't go inside. It seemed wrong to explore it without him. If he'd been there, he could've explained who the people in his pictures were, what all the weapons meant.

She had the run of this incredible place, and it seemed like a complete waste.

Buffy picked the third bedroom down the hall as hers. She had a couple things in her back pack that she hung in the closet. It would be exciting to have her own closet again. Most of her clothes were still in the R.V., thrown on the lower bunk after she'd moved everything out of Dawn's apartment.

Her phone started buzzing and playing, "I'm Too Sexy," which meant Dean was calling her from one of his many numbers. He'd programmed the song as his ringtone when they were at the hospital with Faith and the baby. She put the mobile to her ear and laid down on the bed.

"Hey, how are you?" Dean asked.

"Good. I made it to the bunker. Picked out my own bedroom and everything. I was just about to build a pillow fort."

"You didn't set yourself up in my room?" He sounded just a twinge hurt.

"No, I figured that would be weird."

"You're right, that's weird. I don't know why I said that. Would you want to face time?"

"Yeah. I like your face. Give me a minute."

Buffy went into her bag and got out her laptop with the, "I'm a slayer, ask me how," sticker on the back. In no time, she set it up and they were sort of talking face to face.

He seemed to be in a library; there were walls of books behind him. Dean didn't have a shirt on, and his hair was kind of rumpled. Buffy scooted to the edge of her bed, excited at the prospect of naughtiness.

"Hey, could you hold just a sec?" he asked.

"Whatever you want."

Dean got up, doing something out of frame. He returned with Deena asleep on his chest, a pink, polka-dotted blanket covering them both. Buffy's disappointment must have shown on her face.

"I'm sorry, everybody but me is sick. I made a command decision to make Sam and Faith sleep while I take care of Deena. She's got a little fever and the doctor said skin to skin contact is supposed to be good for them."

"No, don't be sorry. You're being a good brother. I'm glad you called."

"How was that thing in Wyoming?" he asked quietly.

"Cake. It actually would take longer to bake a cake than it did for me to get in and out of there. How was your flight?"

"Nightmare fuel. The pressure got to Deena's ears and she had a diaper blow-out. I had to give Sam my shirt."

"Kids are humbling."

"You got that right." Dean kissed the top of Deena's head. "You think you'd want one someday?"

"She's a doll, but I don't think with my lifestyle it would be so great."

Dean wrapped both arms around Deena. "Good to know."

"What about you?"

"Happy being an uncle." Absently, he stroked Deena's hair. "I know you told me the deal with you and Angel was over, but he seems to think it's still going on."

"What did he say to you?"

"I won't go into it, but if you're still into him-"

"I'm not."

"It's okay if you are-"

"I wish for once a guy I've made out with would just listen to what I say."

"I'm sorry. I believe you. I'm just crossing some t's and dotting some i's."

"Well, at least you're not skulking around in a jealous fit, so I guess things do improve with age. You must think it's weird that I fell for a vampire."

"No, I've had sex with some weird stuff, too. An angel, but she was human at the time. Once made out with Darkness. She was in a lady body, but she was still like the embodiment of darkness. Did get into a real deep relationship with a vampire once, too, but it never got physical."

"What do you mean by deep?" Buffy leaned forward a bit, resting her chin on her hand.

"We saved each other's lives more than once. Where we were, it was fighting non-stop. No time to think. When I finally got out of it-I thought a lot about him. I think I might have loved the guy." Dean looked perplexed, like he'd just heard his own voice on a tape recorder for the first time and couldn't believe that was how he sounded. "I can't believe I just told you that."

"I'm a good person to tell. Pots and kettles and stuff."

They kept talking. She told him all about Spike and the general strangeness of that situation. He told her about hell and purgatory. By the time they finished their conversation, light was streaming through the windows at his place and she was on the verge of falling asleep.

"I should probably go. Deena's gonna need to eat soon."

"Okay. It was good talking to you."

"You too. Buffy," Dean struggled for a moment. "You're awesome."

For some reason the way he said it tickled a thread of embarrassment through her, like he'd just given her an out-sized compliment. "So are you."


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11-Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots

Buffy's jeans creaked with ash. Her heart still pounded, even though the fight was long over. The walk didn't calm her down. She hadn't seen that many vampires since the Hellmouth closed, or maybe it just seemed that way. There was never a moment when she'd fought that she entertained losing, but on the long walk back to her RV, Buffy could not believe she survived.

If anything wanted to kill her, now would be the moment. The realization made her senses go into hyper-drive. She had to get to the camper. Times like these she missed the bunker, but she hadn't been able to go to it in weeks. The absence left her feeling unmoored.

Her phone buzzed against her hip. She could see the R.V. parked by the road, and ran to it fast. There was nothing above or beneath the vehicle, nobody blocking her way. She opened up the door and got inside. Out of habit she checked the whole thing before she looked at her phone. It was Dean. She smiled as she dialed him back.

"Hey, you okay?" he asked.

"Been better, but yeah. I'm good. You?"

"Surviving. We finally got Lucifer back in the cage."

"Ugh, that guy. You always think the big ones are going to be more exciting. Did I ever tell you about the time I killed Dracula?"

"Only about as many times as I told you about killing Hitler. If you got a minute, why don't you tell me what you're wearing instead."

"The collective dust of about a hundred vampires."

"You been having a rough day, huh, baby?"

Buffy took a deep breath to hold in her tears. It didn't work so great because they started slipping down her cheeks. She stared out the windshield at the dark, empty highway.

"Don't call me baby. That's what you call your car."

"What should I call you? Angel's no good for a couple different reasons."

"Why can't you just call me Buffy? My mother gave me that name." Buffy's voice cracked.

"I'm sorry, ba-Buffy. Are you okay?"

"Any word on Castiel or Dawn?" Buffy wiped her eyes.

"No. How's Xander doing?"

"Same. They haven't detected any brain function in a week."

"As soon as I finish up a few things here I'll be on the next plane."

"What are you going to do, Dean? Pawn your soul again to get my friend back? You're not going to do any good coming here."

"I can make sure you're not alone."

Buffy sobbed into the phone. Dean listened to her for a second before he continued on, gently.

"If you don't want me to come, I won't, but find somebody who can be there with you," he said.

"I want you, Dean. But if Castiel can't heal him, there can't be anything else. Xander's too good—"

"I know. I promise you, no deals, no hoodoo. Just me."

"Okay. Just you."

"Buffy, I-you're-"

"No, I get it. Feelings are hard. Show me when you get here."

Dean cleared his throat. "Right. See you soon."

"See you soon." Buffy hung up.

She took a few deep breaths to get herself under control. Buffy turned on the ignition. The headlights lit up the highway.

She put the vehicle in drive just as something huge landed on her hood. Buffy screamed. A vampire in full bumpy mode stood in the dent he made in her hood, a bloody grin on his mouth. He had on a black leather jacket studded in silver zippers and his dark hair was wild.

"Slayer, come out and play!"

"Right, like I got my sacred calling yesterday." She hit the gas and then slammed on her brakes, hurling the monster forward onto the street. Buffy angled the wheel to crush its head. After two turns the vamp was nothing at all.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12-Bad and Ruin

Buffy sat beside Xander's bed holding his hand. It was too soft underneath the callouses, all his muscle tension gone. The bandage covering his face went over Xander's eyepatch. He would've hated that. Xander thought the patch made him look like Nick Fury. The tube down his throat making him breath pushed his chest up in an unnatural way. The sound was a little like Darth Vader. That, he might have liked.

"I talked to your boss today. All your medical bills are going to be covered. You can take as much time as you need to get better," she said.

Buffy felt like she was slowly freezing from the inside out. A knock at the door made her lift her head. Spike stood in the doorway, a gentle smile on his sharp face. His hair glowed white under the fluorescent lights.

"Hello slayer."

"What are you doing here?"

Willow ducked her head in the room. "He's with me."

"Red pulled me out of a hell dimension, thought you could use my help." Spike sidled up to her. The sight of him made her feel something, like it always did. Even at her most numb and disconnected he could stab through with painful clarity. Her stomach twisted. The last time they saw each other, he'd saved the day. The time before that, he died in front of her. So much had happened in between. She wasn't sure what he wanted from her. All she knew was that she didn't want to deal right now. Buffy forced herself to smile at them. Willow didn't seem to see it, but Spike did. Nothing ever escaped his notice. He sauntered over to her and touched her shoulder. She patted his cold hand. Willow sat on the bed next to Xander.

"Hey there, buddy. I'm sorry we haven't gone out for moo shu in a while. When you get better those teeny pancakes are on me. Okay?" Willow said.

Willow looked at Buffy, her green eyes full of tears. "I think I found a spell to summon Castiel. We need Spike and you."

"Is it a souled vampire thing?" Buffy asked.

"Dawn needs loved ones to draw her back. Red thought I'd suffice in a pinch."

Buffy looked up at him. "Thank you."

Willow stood. She took some spell components out of her bag and laid them in a circle on the floor. Buffy recognized an angel feather. She knelt down on the linoleum and picked up something that resembled a bone.

"What's this?" Buffy held the item up to her face.

"Metatarsal of a Catholic Saint. It was a real challenge trying to find a saint Castiel personally appeared to."

Buffy set it down. Willow gently rearranged the bone to form a perfect ring.

"Okay, ready." Willow reached her arms out to both of them. Buffy took one hand. Spike walked over and completed the circle.

Willow spoke the words, her eyes flashing silver. Wind howled, tossing Willow's hair around her face. The windows rattled. Lights crackled and blinked. Neither Willow nor Spike shied away from the spectacle. The air seemed to press against Buffy.

Then something popped.

Castiel and Dawn stood within the circumference of their arms. Both of them were completely naked. Willow squeaked. Spike giggled. It was a testament to how badly things had been going that Buffy had no reaction at all.

"Why have you summoned us?" Castiel peered at them. Dawn looked down at her nudity and yelped, covering herself with her hands. Buffy took off her long, pink shearling coat and handed it to her sister without another word.

Dawn put it on. "Thanks, Buffy. Clothes were more of a hindrance in the realms where we were traveling."

"No need for explanation, bit. We've all been to those realms. Some of us are itchin' to get back there again." Spike winked at Buffy. She pretended she didn't see it.

"We need your help, Castiel. Xander suffered brain damage," Buffy said. Dawn covered her mouth and tears sprung to her eyes. Buffy kept talking. "His soul is hanging in between this world and the next. The only thing keeping him alive is the ventilator. We need you to heal him."

"I can't bring him back from an injury like that without tapping into major darkness, but you can. It's kinda what you do," Willow said.

Castiel nodded. "Of course. I'm sorry you had to go to such lengths to appeal to me."

"Oh, poor Xander." Dawn went to Xander's bedside.

Castiel followed her. He stared at Xander's face.

"I believe I can regrow his eye, but he'll still develop astigmatism in his fifties."

"That's ultra-extra," Willow said, clearly impressed. "Maybe I should learn some Enochian magic."

Castiel put his finger on Xander's forehead. Everyone in the room held their breath, even Spike, who had no breath. Xander jolted into motion, coughed violently on the tube down his throat, startling all those surrounding him besides Castiel. Buffy ran into the hallway.

"We need help right now. Someone!" Buffy grabbed a passing nurse and pulled her into the room. As soon as the nurse saw Xander, she went to him, and tried to help him take the tube out. The worker, whose name was Rosie according to her name tag, had the tube disgorged fast. She glanced at Castiel out of the corner of her eye.

"Did that man get up here from another floor? Do you need someone to remove him?"

"No, heck no. We had an accident and he needed to change his shirt," Willow moved her hand in the air. Clothes appeared on Castiel-a dark gray suit and a light gray trench coat. "But he's fine now."

Rosie glanced at Castiel again. "O-Kaay. Wacky. I must need sleep. I could have sworn he was naked!"

Castiel laughed unnaturally and way too loud. "How ridiculous that situation would have been."

Xander coughed into his fist, his eye watery and red. The nurse eased him into a sitting position. She checked his eye with a penlight.

"How many fingers am I holding up," Rosie held up two. Xander held up two of his own fingers.

"We were seriously tracking down your parents to see if we could get an organ donation," Rosie said.

"Sweet, furry goodness, what kind of hospital is this?" Xander croaked.

Rosie laughed, "You were braindead, Mr. Harris. I've never seen a patient recover from that."

"That's the power of prayer, love," Spike said.

"He's not wrong," Castiel said.

Once Rosie was sure Xander was okay, she got up to get a doctor. Willow rounded on the group, all business. "You four need to get out of here."

"Why? I've been here every night since Xander's accident. The doctors have been filling me in on all the medical stuff, Will," Buffy said.

"Well I'm his emergency contact," Willow said.

"That's true," Xander's voice was barely a whisper.

"And I need to do a glamour on his eye to make it look all sockety and I figured you needed to talk to your sister, Buffy. Because if I have to talk to her, she's not going to like me much when I'm done."

Dawn stood abruptly, "Willow? You don't mean that."

"Don't push me Dawn," Willow said.

"That's not fair. Half-pint couldn't have known what would befall the boy. You sort always truck in bad and ruin, she can't put her life on hold for that or she'd never do anything," Spike said.

Castiel put his hands on Dawn's shoulders. "It's endearing that the demon thinks of you as a child when you predate his kind by millennia."

"Oy, did you just call me cute?" Spike got up and pointed at Castiel, an inch from his nose. "I'm a bloody warrior."

"I am a soldier of the lord who lifted your mother's soul from perdition after you damned it. Remove your finger from my face."

"Did he just bring up my mum?" Spike asked.

"Whoa boys, no reason to crack wise about anybody's mamas." Buffy put her hands up between them. "We want Xander to be able to keep using his real name."

"Sorry, slayer," Spike stuck his hands in the pockets of his leather duster.

"Yes, that was regrettable," Castiel said.

"Okay, that means you're going with the witch approved plan. So say us all?" Willow asked.

The others all spoke in unison. "So say us all."

Willow snapped her fingers.

Buffy found herself standing in the living room of Dawn's apartment with Dawn, Cas and Spike.

"Red couldn't spare a word of warning first. I think she gave me bloody whiplash." Spike rubbed his neck.

Castiel was naked again.

Dawn shook her head. "Let me get you something to wear."

"I'm sorry everyone. I know this is upsetting to you." Castiel cupped his privates.

"Don't worry about it. I'm so burnt out, Cas, your nudeness is hardly registering right now," Buffy flopped down on Dawn's flowered couch. Spike sat next to her, his arm casually laid over the back. He propped up his feet on Dawn's coffee table, his legs crossed at the ankle.

"And I'm a worldly man who happens to have a bigger plonker than yours, so no harm done," Spike said.

"Physical and psychological exhaustion can be deadly, Buffy. If you need me to touch you, I'd be happy to."

"I bet you would," Spike said.

"Spike," Buffy put her hand on his chest, "He doesn't mean it like that. Besides, you're wasting all that pissiness on the wrong guy. I am dating somebody, but somebody not Cas."

Spike withdrew his arm and folded his hands in his lap. "Is he human?"

She looked from Spike's hurt eyes to Castiel, who was unsuccessfully trying to hide his genitals behind a floor lamp. "Cas, could you go help Dawn find some clothes for you? That might dial down the awkward."

"Right, it's so obvious. Thank you." Castiel did an odd side shuffle into the bedroom to spare them the sight of his backside.

"My boyfriend's human," Buffy said.

"Is it serious?"

"Yeah, Spike, I think so."

"But you don't know. Why, is he bad in bed?"

"Don't do that."

"It's true, isn't it?"

"No, Spike. Come on. Hearing me talk about it will just hurt you. We'll never be like Willow and Xander. I don't want to dish about my love life and I don't want to hear about yours. Like, I want you to be happy and everything, but it would kill me to get specific with it."

"It would?" He smiled.

"Definitely. We're more disaster apocalypse buddies. You know I have your back when you need me and vice versa."

"The rate things are going we'll see each other at least three or four times a year," Spike said.

"Right."

Spike threaded his fingers together. "Not that I want details, or even broad euphemisms, but this bloke does make you happy, doesn't he?"

"Happy is kinda ambitious lately. He is the only thing that's been keeping me sane since Xan got hurt."

"Then I'm glad you have him." Spike bumped her shoulder with his. She could see what Castiel meant by implying he was cute.

Castiel and Dawn came back into the room. Dawn had on a pair of jeans and a purple sweater. Cas wore a gold and white kimono style robe Buffy had never seen before.

"I thought you were finding him clothes," Buffy said.

"This was the only thing that fit him," Dawn sat down across from them. Castiel nestled in beside her.

Dawn gave him a honeyed smile. Then she looked at Buffy. Dawn's face was in full ninth grade venom.

"So are we gonna fight or what?" Dawn asked.

"Willow is the full of fight one."

"Come on Buffy, I've known you since birth. I was you. Just have out with it."

"Fine." Buffy sighed. "Why didn't you tell anybody where you were? You had me scared, Dawnie."

"You're one to talk. Buffy, you never reported back to me, all the time we were growing up. After that it wasn't like you consulted me before becoming a fugitive."

"Were you just getting even?"

"I'm finally figuring out my power."

"And you got drunk on it. Trust me, I know better than anybody what that's like. But you're still human. You've got responsibilities to the people who love you," Buffy said.

Dawn stood up and got in Buffy's face. Cas grabbed her around the waist to hold her back. "How dare you! You died, Buffy! You died. You left me all alone."

"You didn't die, Dawn. But somebody almost did."

Dawn looked like she was winding up to really yell. Her face got red and her lips stretched wide. Instead, she blipped out of existence.

"Dawn!?" Buffy screamed.

"I'm sorry, she does that sometimes. In moments of intense emotion, she can't control herself," Castiel said.

"Do you know where she is?" Buffy asked.

"Yes. There's a timeline where we keep a home. We interact in a way typical to human beings that isn't afforded to us in this reality. I usually find her in bed there petting the cat."

"When you say typical, what do you mean?" Spike asked. Buffy elbowed him in the ribs.

"Little pleasures that she experiences and I can't. In our realm, we can share them. She feels more real there than anywhere else."

"She needs to come back here. She has to defend her thesis pretty soon and she's going to lose her adjunct in the fall if she doesn't go back to complete her degree."

"Do you really think she cares about that now?" Castiel asked.

"I don't know. The Dawn I knew; her degree was the most important thing in her life. She wanted to become this great keeper of knowledge and arcana. Now, I don't know who she is or even what she is. Before she met you, the bunker would have been her Holy Grail and Ark of the Covenant rolled into one. She's never even set foot in it with me."

"She and I traveled through time to simultaneously watch both of those holy relics come into existence. We also witnessed the filming process of all four Indiana Jones films," Castiel said.

Buffy stared at him.

"In these worlds that you and Dawn travel through, do we even exist?" Buffy asked.

"Xander has existed in all, Willow in most. This is the only timeline in which you exist, Buffy. The spell Willow used to bring you back to life destroyed every other version of you across time and space."

"In Dawn's perfect world, I'm dead?"

"No, you never exist, and neither does she," Castiel rubbed his forehead.

"Well that's just peachy with a side of keen. If she won't come back for me, at least take her back to see Dean and Sam. They might be able to help her feel, like maybe she belongs."

"I can do that. How are the Winchesters?"

"Good. Shoved the devil back in his hole without any of your celestial seasonings."

"I suppose both of us have been denying our responsibilities. Good bye, Buffy. William." Castiel vanished.

Buffy buried her face in her hands.

"Winchester's the boyfriend, then?" Spike asked.

"Yup. We're all tangled up together now."

"You've got a type."

"I like 'em legendary."

"Guess it takes one to know one."

"Thank you."

"You want me to stay the night, love? On the couch, of course. Don't need to provoke the ire of those blokes."

"That's alright, Spike, but I appreciate the gesture."

He patted her shoulder. "I'll show myself out."

She accompanied him to the door anyway. Spike wasn't one for lingering goodbyes, so he left without further ceremony. She set the lock behind him.

Buffy sat down on the couch for a moment with the intention of getting up again to eat. Presumably Dawn still needed to eat, so she would have to go down to the corner shop for groceries. Which she was totally going to do...until she fell asleep.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13-Sinister Kid

Four Hours Earlier:

"Buffy, I-you're-" Dean wanted to tell her she was special to him, he thought he was falling for her, he'd do anything for her-just any reassuring thing, but he couldn't get that out in a coherent way. He couldn't even tell her she was awesome, which was how he'd been closing every one of their conversations.

"No, I get it. Feelings are hard. Show me when you get here," she said, letting him off the hook.

Dean cleared his throat. "Right. See you soon."

"See you soon." Buffy hung up.

Dean sat in the Spitfire, trying to come up with his next move.

He'd adopted Giles' old Triumph when he moved in, got it running like a top, even repainted it the original Cherry Red. The idea was to fix it up for Deena, but Faith wanted the damned thing for herself when he got through. There was time before Deena turned sixteen, though. He could always find another car for his niece. Faith was so happy about the car, she kind of forgot that the whole pretext for letting him live there was that he was supposed to be renovating the barn. That hadn't panned out so great. He'd cleaned it really well and sold off most of the equipment leftover after the horse auction, but that was as far as he'd gotten.

He appraised his face in the rearview mirror. It looked even worse than it had the day before. The devil did a number on him when they were shoving Lucifer back into his cage. Dean had two black eyes. His cheek out-Brandoed Brando. It was "The Godfather" times "Island of Doctor Moreau."

Dean stuck his phone into the inside pocket of his jacket. He'd wanted to talk to Buffy before he did it. All the other i's had been dotted and t's crossed. Dean just needed to hear her voice one more time before it was all over. She'd sounded worn out. That weariness convinced him what he was about to do was right.

Dean knew the spell by heart, exactly where it had to take place and what was needed to make it all work. That's why he'd driven to the middle of the forest. When Giles was alive, he'd owned a cabin there. Now that he was dead, it technically belonged to Faith, which was how Dean had scammed a copy of the keys.

Dean got out of the car and began stalking out into the dark woods. He had been to the cabin a few days before and knew all the elements of the spell were in order, all but one. That last piece would fall into place in a few hours.

The cabin was dark when Dean got there. It looked more "Evil Dead," than "Downton Abby." He supposed that was right. As he pushed his way inside, he heard something he hadn't counted on-a muffled cry coming from the closet. His heart sank. He must have misjudged the timing of things.

Dean walked to the source of the commotion easily, without the aid of a flashlight. He'd memorized the layout of the place the last time he'd gone there. He undid the lock on the closet and opened the door. The small figure of a child scampered back against the wall.

"Please, don't hurt me. I have some savings bonds if you need money."

"Maribella Jones?" Dean asked.

"Yeah." Her eyes glittered.

"I'm a police officer. I'm not going to hurt you, but you need to hold tight for a minute."

"That's what he said when he took me. How do I know you're not lying too?"

"I'm not. You like chocolate Maribella?" Dean handed her a Double Decker bar he'd been saving for his flight. She snatched the candy from his hand and then retreated back to her corner. "There's water in my car. If you can keep quiet for another hour, I'll get it for you. An hour after that, you'll be home with your mom and your grandma. You understand Maribella?"

"Understand," she mumbled with her mouth full.

Dean closed the door and locked it. It made his guts churn to lock a nine-year-old in a fucking closet, but he saw no other way. Lightly, he padded out of the house. The further he could keep the monster from Maribella the better. Just as he'd finished locking the door, he sensed someone beside him. Dean turned around. Angel stood less than a foot from him.

"Did you really think you could get the drop on me, Dean? I could smell the onion rings you ate for lunch at the tree line," Angel said.

"I'm taking Maribella back to her family."

"She's destined to become a serial killer, Dean. I'd be doing the world a favor by sacrificing her for Giles."

"Did you ever think that maybe kidnapping a little girl and locking her in a dark closet isn't the best thing for her mental health? Maybe you pushed her down the murder-psycho slalom yourself."

"I vetted that girl. She might be little now, but one day she's going to do something horrible."

"What? Like I was, and Sam was? Fate doesn't mean anything."

"Don't lecture me about fate, boy. I know more about it than anyone."

"Giles is at peace. Cas said as much. He's with the love of his life in paradise. Why do you want to take her away from him again? You think that's gonna get Buffy back after everything you did?"

"It's not about that."

"Really? Because from where I'm standing, it looks just like that."

"You sure you're not just insecure in your relationship, buddy. Projecting a little?"

"I'm not going to let you hurt that kid. I don't think you're gonna kill me because you know Faith will never forgive that and Sam will just end you. Even if Maribella Jones saw your face, you're a vampire. You can go underground for as long as you need to until the heat's off. You walk away now and I'll bring her back home. We'll forget this ever happened."

Angel thought about it for a moment. "Okay. But only because I don't want to hurt Faith. I'm not really scared of your brother."

"So how do we want to do this? I'm not too high on taking her outside while you're still here. How 'bout you head back to the big house and I'll go inside the cabin."

"How do I know you won't burn the place to the ground after you leave?"

"You do know, because I'm telling you right now that's exactly what I'm going to do. If you want to bring Giles back, you'll have to do it in Faith and Sam's goddamned bedroom. Something tells me you won't."

"I guess I won't." Angel turned his back on Dean.

Dean took the moment to slide his knife out of sleeve. Fast and quiet like his dad taught him-Dean took Angel's head off with one clean sweep of the blade. Angel melted into a shower of dust.

"Shit, no wonder Buffy can smoke a hundred of these things. The clean-up is a snap," Dean said to himself.

He went back inside the cabin and this time, flicked on the light. Dean unlocked the closet. "Come on out, Maribella. You're safe now."

"Are you sure?" She crawled out of the closet. As soon as she got a good look at him, she cowered. "What happened to your face?"

"I got into a fight with one of the bad guys. But I won." Dean picked her up. She was light, even for a child. As he carried her through the woods towards the car, he considered what to do next. Getting her home was more important than throwing the scent off Sam and Faith. He set the little girl in the passenger side. Her blue and white school uniform looked a bit worse for wear, with mud on the hem of the plaid, pleated skirt. Both her knees had been scraped and bloodied. Something had torn the sleeve of the red coat she wore. The disarray made him want to kill Angel all over again.

"I have to pee real bad," Maribella said.

Dean pursed his lips. His first impulse was to let her go out in the woods, because she was probably in agony, but if she bolted, he might not be able to find her. With her bare legs, she could die of exposure in a few hours. She could get irretrievably lost in the dark or find something a lot eviler than him.

"I'll take you to the police station. It's not far," Dean said, as he turned the ignition. They drove. She huddled in her seat, clearly distrustful. That was a good lesson to learn. They were out of the wooded area and into a pleasant, little village in less than ten minutes. It looked like something off of a chocolate box, with the snow falling pretty on the old-fashioned, brick cottages. He stopped the car across the street from the police station, out of the view of the cameras mounted on the outside.

"Now you look both ways before you cross the street, kid. I'll be watching out for you."

The terrified little girl nodded, then she jumped out of the car. He watched to make sure she made it to the door before peeling out.

Dean doubled back to the cabin. He set up a spell Willow had given him. She called it Glamour-in-a-can. All he had to do to activate it was to literally peel back a can lid and set the thing on the front stoop. The cabin disappeared from view. Willow's illusion would only last a week, but that would be enough time to throw the bobbies off of Faith and Sam. Then he could pay someone to torch the building. Giles had already erased the house from the public record, because he'd used it for nefarious Council purposes.

Dean got back to the car. He checked his watch. No time to stop for food before he had to be back at the estate. Sam was dropping him off at the airport. Dean would have to warn him not to drive the Spitfire until he could repaint it; maybe Delft Blue. Deena seemed to like blue.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14-Natural One

Buffy waited for Dean at the passenger pick up area of the airport. She thought maybe she should have brought a present. Dean would have laughed at a bouquet of flowers and a bottle of Scotch wasn't super-appropriate since he'd mostly quit drinking. Once, during their conversations, he admitted he needed a pair of really good, water resistant socks, but that wasn't exactly romantic. Even though they'd been together almost four months, presents were still a wild and wooly unknown.

Willow had suggested that she tie a bow around her waist and show up in nothing else but a raincoat. Buffy wasn't sure if that was a serious thing, or if Willow had just been trying to make Spike cry. Spike had decided to stay with Willow for a while and she could see him lurking around when they'd face-timed. Maybe she still had sadistic feelings towards him, because the little dig made her smile.

The passengers started filing out from the baggage claim. A tall man with his right eye nearly swollen shut waved at her. It took a second to register that the man was Dean. Buffy ran up to him. They hugged. She wanted to kiss him, but his lip looked too bruised.

"Dean, did you join a fight club?"

"I can't really talk about it."

"No seriously, what happened to your pretty, pretty face?"

"The devil did it."

"Somehow you've made my life even more literal that before."

"It's a gift." He squeezed her tight.

They went outside. The sun had just finished setting, and the sky still had that pearly-blue look to it. She'd brought one of the other cars from the bunker-a black Dodge Charger. As soon as they sat down in the car, Dean caught her up in a kiss. She was afraid of hurting him and used barely any pressure. They'd been apart for so long that she couldn't stop herself from touching him. Her fingers skated under his shirt, and she felt bandages wrapped around his chest. Abruptly, Buffy pulled away.

"You broke your ribs too?"

"Cas can fix me up like he fixed Xander."

"It must have been painful to travel. You didn't have to-"

He cupped her face. "I had to."

"I know. You've never been away from your car for this long," she joked.

"How's my baby?" He planted a crown of kisses on her forehead.

"Mmm. Perfect. I drove it twice a week to the diner, washed it once a week."

He kissed her neck. "You didn't drive her here?"

"Too scared."

He looked her right in the eyes. "You don't have to be. I trust you."

She kissed him again before starting up the car. They drove to the exit and the guy in the small Plexi-glass toll booth gave her the stank eye when he took her money. He'd probably watched them the whole time, his resentment bottling up. Buffy felt like sinking deeper into her seat. The transaction ended and she sped off, almost smacking into a Jersey barrier.

"You okay?"

"A little rattled. That guy was shame nunning me."

"You're a slayer. Go back there and kick his ass."

She chuckled as she maneuvered through the routing obstacle course. "Yeah, I'll punch him back to the decade where his sexual mores belong."

"Atta girl."

She merged into traffic, onto the highway.

"Willow and Spike will be in town tomorrow night, so I thought we could get dinner."

"Your other ex-boyfriend who's a vampire."

"That would be the one. I think you'll like him, if he's not being a jerk. Which he does sometimes. But I mean you and Angel worked it out, and Angel's way more possessive of me and at least ten times as glowery. How are things going with you guys? Has Sam talked to Faith about Angel leaving yet?"

"I don't know. Faith's been talking to a guy. Sammy thinks that she'll be able to turn Angel loose pretty soon." He tucked into himself and got quiet.

Buffy tried to resuscitate the conversation a couple times, but it kept dying. Dean switched on some music: "Wild Horses," by the Sundays.

"What is this? How could anybody do this to a Stones song?" he asked.

"Hey, I like this version. They played it at my prom."

"Do you even know what this song's about?"

"Maryanne Faithful. This is my favorite song of all time and my favorite version of all time."

"If this is your favorite version, this can't possibly be your favorite song, because the Stones did it first."

"Well, technically they recorded it first, but Gram Parsons released a version with the Flying Burrito Brothers that came out the year before _Sticky Fingers_ -"

"How can you know so much about this song and still be totally wrong about it?"

"I don't know, how can you know so little about it and still be so wrong?" Buffy couldn't tell if Dean was really angry. She couldn't even tell if she was really angry or just irritated by him.

"Look, this is stupid-" Dean might have been apologizing in the worst possible way, but Castiel and Dawn chose that moment to appear in the back seat of the car.

"Are you two having a fight?" Dawn asked.

Buffy yelped and swerved. Dean grabbed the wheel, righting it before they plowed into the opposite lane.

"You okay, Buffy?" Dean asked.

"Fine. Just not used to all of that."

"It took me a while. Cas, I didn't think you had the juice to do that anymore."

Castiel looked rumpled but mercifully clothed. "Dawn's been giving me juice. I wanted to heal your injuries." Castiel touched Dean's forehead. All the bruises mottling Dean's face vanished. His nose even looked straighter.

"And I wanted to explain to you that Dean did the right thing. There was only one time-line where stuff went okay, and then it didn't even go a hundred percent," Dawn said.

"What are you talking about, Dawnie?" Buffy asked.

Castiel grabbed Dawn's arm. "It hasn't happened yet. He confesses at the hotel. We under estimated."

"Dawnie, you might be all time-hoppy now, but you're still my little sister. Explain yourself," Buffy said.

"Nerds! I'm sorry." Dawn said.

Castiel patted Dawn's shoulder. "It's not your fault. Winchesters destroy all mathematical probability. I think they may put off a slight electromagnetic charge along with a powerful animal musk."

"What?" Dean asked.

"See you at dinner." Dawn waved and they both vanished.

"Holy cats, I really am never getting used to that," Buffy's hands were white on the wheel. "Dean, do you know what any of that was about?"

"Yeah, I think I do. I'll go into it once we get to the hotel."

"Why not now?"

"Because you're already freaked out and I don't want to make it any worse while you're driving."

"Fine. We'll pull over."

They happened to be going over the Golden Gate Bridge and the first place to really pull over and stop was the Golden Gate Overlook. She'd planned to take him to the spot anyway, as something touristy and fun and maybe romantic. Now that was all ruined before it started. The idea that he had something to confess made her stomach gurgle. They disembarked from the bridge. She found a parking spot. The city stretched out before them, rivers of lights twinkling. She looked from the city to Dean.

"What do you need to confess?"

"Angel was trying to bring Giles back from the dead."

Buffy fought the urge to deny it. After what she'd been through, coming back from the dead, she didn't want to believe Angel could do that to Giles. It was so selfish and cruel. Almost like murdering him again, but in reverse.

"Why didn't you tell me?

"I wanted to be sure he was serious about it first. The spell requires a lot of bad stuff."

"How bad?

"Blood of an innocent virgin."

"Like cutting the arm?"

"No, like slitting the throat. And would that really be okay with you?"

"Of course not, but I can't believe he'd kill an innocent."

"He convinced himself she wasn't innocent. Angel went to a psychic; she did a spell to find a kid who was destined to go bad."

"Is that possible? Most psychics I've met are big on cryptic imagery and light on details. Even my lotto friend has off days."

"Any time you mess with fate, you change it, that's part of it."

"The way observing a scientific experiment changes it slightly?"

Dean frowned, thinking on it. "Probably. Most of what I know about science I got from Godzilla movies."

"Stop being cute."

"That's impossible." He waited a beat to see if she'd take the bait and laugh. When she didn't, he kept talking. "Psychics become a part of the timeline. That's why you get so many self-fulfilling prophecies. They make it all about them."

"Okay, I get it. What happened?"

"I followed Angel for weeks. He covered his tracks real good, but I managed to keep on his trail. I thought I could stop him before he did it, but he kidnapped a nine-year-old named Maribella Jones. He was going to sacrifice her."

"You're wrong, he couldn't do that-"

"Look it up."

Buffy already believed him, but she still pulled her phone out and looked it up. Dean didn't seem offended. His expression didn't change, as though he'd expected her to do that.

After a few swipes, Buffy found Maribella Jones: lured from a playground; no ransom note. She told police a white man with two black eyes and a swollen jaw rescued her from a cabin in the woods. Neither the man nor the cabin could be found, but police were taking her seriously anyway because the kidnapping had been caught on camera. The police sketches which had been released to the public looked just like Angel.

"I found that kid locked in a closet, no food, no water. I killed him right there and I don't regret it."

Even though she'd been expecting to hear it, Buffy still felt her hopes drain out.

"You've been calling me twice a day and you never mentioned any of this?" she said, a knot of anger tightening in her chest.

"You were going through hell. I didn't want to put this on you, too."

"I could have talked to him."

"What good would that have done?"

"I don't know. You never gave me the chance." Buffy got out and slammed the door shut. She leaned against the car and hugged herself, trying not to throw up.

Dean hopped out of the passenger side. He walked around the back with his hands jammed in the pockets of his jacket and stood next to her.

"Angel was a danger to the people I care about and it was only a matter of time. If it wasn't Maribella Jones, it would have been another girl. Maybe Deena."

"There was a time in my life where I would have killed you for hurting him."

"What about now? You want to kill me, Buffy?"

Buffy's jaw ached from clenching it too tight.

"You can take the car." She dug the keys out of her inside jacket pocket. The bunker key was on the ring, too. "If you need slayer help, have Faith call me." She dropped the keys on the ground. As he bent to scoop them up, she started walking up the hiking trail. She'd always meant to see the view from Slacker's Hill.

"No way," Dean said.

She could hear him behind her. In a few steps, he'd caught up. He didn't touch her, but he walked by her side. They tromped along the trail; surprisingly there weren't any people around them compared to the look out. Night hiking was probably high level stupid for most people, but she and Dean weren't most people.

"You want to end things, fine, but you got to let me say my piece."

"Why? You're the one who decided this relationship isn't a democracy."

"Hate me, whatever, but you know I'm right. You know you would've done the same thing."

"I know I wouldn't. That's the problem. We look at the world from a different place. You're all terminator, you only see threats that need to be neutralized. I would have stopped him as soon as I figured out what he was trying to do. I could have talked him out of it."

"If you're his Jiminy Cricket, what happens when you're not around? This wasn't a lapse by a human being. This is a pattern by something that couldn't get it right for 290 years. His good starts and pretty much ends with you."

"That's not true."

"I read. After he left you, there were a couple good years before he hooked up with an evil freaking law firm, sent L.A. to hell and then came back as a masked killer that destroyed half the slayer population. You were the thing keeping him sane. Faith doesn't have the emotional capital to do it, not with Sam and the baby."

"Did you really just say emotional capital?"

"Like I said, I read."

They continued on in the moonlight for a few steps before he spoke again, "You still want to kill me?"

"I never did, you dumb mook. Since Angel, I don't love anyone like that, not even him."

"Just so we're clear on this, you're melancholy and the infinite sadness because you don't want to kill me?" He laughed and shook his head.

"No. Maybe?"

They turned a bend, and saw a couple ahead of them. Except the pair was walking towards them instead of toward the peak. She and Dean stopped. He took out his flashlight. Buffy gripped the stake in her pocket. As the two approached, Dean turned on the flashlight, splashing a circle of yellow light on them both. The girl winced, but the boy didn't. She appeared to be no older than sixteen, the male maybe twenty. Her tattered broomstick skirt fell to her ankles and the guy had on a wool, woven pull-over sweater and a pukka shell necklace. Something about the way they looked was off. The girl's Folk Implosion t shirt combined with the Sneaker Pimps patch on her bag convinced Buffy she was looking at a pair of vampires. Buffy glanced at Dean, and he seemed to have reached the same conclusion.

"Hey, we were wondering if you two could spare some change. We're stranded." the female said.

Dean gave Buffy a meaningful glance. "You two picked the worst people in the universe to run your little scam on."

"Man, you got us all wrong," the male said.

His fangs dropped down, just as the girl's bumpies came out.

"Oh wow, they're like, inter-species! I didn't know that was a thing!" Buffy said.

The two vampires looked at each other in confusion. Buffy took the opportunity to dust the female. Her partner was still sharing a baffled look with her when she melted to the ground. Enraged, the male lunged right into Dean's knife. His head rolled to the ground like an overripe apple from a tree. The vampire's decapitated body sank to the earth. Blood sprayed Dean, but not the volume it would've had he beheaded a living body with a pumping heart.

"I've never heard of California vampires pairing up with the old kind." Dean produced a handkerchief and wiped his blade. "He must've been shunned by his family, or they all died out."

"They have families?" Buffy nudged the corpse with her boot.

"Yeah, they run in packs, but I think we're good here. There's no way they'd let her in the mix. Impure demon blood and all that."

"Now I feel bad. They're the Romeo and Juliette of vampire couples."

"Can't say we never did anything romantic," Dean picked up the head. "Come on, let's bury this poor son of a bitch."

"Are you sticking me with the body?"

"I respect your strength."

Buffy hoisted the rest of the pukka shell vamp over her shoulder. "I remembered to bring a good trash bag with me. We can transport it back in the trunk and bury him whenever."

"Good idea."

"It's in my inside pocket. Just reach in."

Dean smirked as he went inside her coat. He found it quickly with no shenanigans. Even though she was disappointed in him and they were breaking up, she kind of wished there'd been shenanigans. He whipped it open. She dumped the body in the bag. Dean tossed in the head, like the cherry on top of the worst sundae in the world.

Buffy swung the bag over her shoulder.

"I can take that," Dean said.

"No. It's fine. Slayer strength and stamina. Besides, it looks less like a body if I'm carrying it."

"Good point."

"If anyone asks, we were collecting recyclables," Buffy said.

They went on for a little, not speaking.

"Before we got interrupted, you were saying something," Dean said.

Buffy shifted the weight of the bag. Even though it was light, the shape was still cumbersome. "I don't want to kill you."

"After that. You're thinking we won't work out. You want to tell me why?"

"The last three people I dated loved me, and I couldn't love them back the way they needed."

"You're talking the vampire, the slayer, and the guy from Iowa who cheated on you and bailed." Dean ticked them off on his fingers.

"He didn't cheat. Technically."

"As a guy I can tell you definitely, it was cheating."

"Well, you're not him."

"That's right I'm not him. I'm not like any of them. You said the slayer would've been perfect if she'd been a guy. The vampire tried to kill you before you hooked up. Maybe after farm boy you figured there was something wrong with you, so you stopped trying. You had the expiration date built in, like one of those disgusting yogurt cups you like."

"Digestion is important," she snapped, more grumpy than angry. "You think I want to get out before I fall in love with you."

"I think you already are in love with me."

"Your ego's showing."

"I can back it up."

"Okay Kanye, I'm not buying that you were watching those videos with the sound off."

"He ruined that song." He smiled at her, the warm conspiratorial smile that made her feel like everything would be alright. "You fell hard for me, and that's when the clock started ticking. You were just waiting for me to screw up. So here we are."

"I was wrong. You make Kanye look self-deprecating."

"It doesn't matter. We shouldn't have tried this. I thought maybe because of Sammy and Faith, there'd be a chance, but that was dumb."

"Wait, what?" Buffy thought the bottom had already fallen out, but there she was falling through the floor.

"We're not the kind of people who fall in love and get married. You and I aren't even supposed to be alive. We're made to fight and die and that doesn't leave room for much else. Sammy and Faith are a fluke. A good fluke, but come on."

Buffy didn't know what to say. The vampire's body felt heavier.

"That wasn't the reaction I was expecting. Usually my break-ups involve guys stalking me and at least the threat of violence."

"You want me to punch a wall?" He shrugged.

"No. This is better. But I'm kind of pent up now that we didn't have a big emotional outburst."

"Maybe we'll have a chance to stab something before we get to the car."

Sadly, no monsters interrupted them on the way. Dean opened up the trunk and she dumped the vamp in, to strange looks from the other people on the overlook. Buffy ignored them.

Dean had the keys, so he took the driver's seat. She got inside. In the dome light, Buffy could see the blood spattering Dean's face.

"Hold on," she said, as she went into the center consul. There was a pack of Wet Naps for situations just like that. She took one out and began reaching toward his face with the white napkin in her hand. He gave her a funny look.

"What are you doing?"

"You're a mess. Look."

He glanced at the rearview mirror and smiled. "Not the bodily fluids I wanted all over my face tonight."

"Ew," Buffy laughed as she cleaned him up.

"Don't take off too much of my foundation," he said.

She giggled. "It's okay, I've got more in my bag."

Buffy finished wiping his face.

"How about me? Am I security camera ready?" Buffy asked.

He held her chin with thumb and forefinger, and used it to gently tilt her head from side to side. "Beautiful." He let go, but they kept looking at each other.

"What now?" Buffy asked.

"Take the key to the bunker back. It's your place now, too." He touched her hair. "We're friends, right?"

"I'm still angry with you, but I don't know what I'm going to do if I can't talk to you anymore. So yeah, we're still friends." Buffy felt like she would cry.

Dean brushed her cheek. He looked like he was about to say something. Instead, he kissed her. She held him tight and kissed him back, even though she'd just finished making an argument about why they shouldn't date. He peeled off her jacket. Underneath she wore a tank top. He kissed along the straps. She ran her hands through his hair, held his head to her. When he stopped to take a breath, or maybe say something, she climbed into the backseat. He dove in after her.

She'd never done that before-never had sex in a car. From the way he knew his way around, she was sure he'd done it a lot. He practically picked her up and moved her so she was sitting on his lap. He took a condom out of his coat pocket and held it up. It was a cocky gesture accompanied by the most vulnerable expression, the twin of his first mug shot, the one that kind of broke her heart. Almost like he was afraid to say it out loud, but he had to ask. She took the condom out of his hand. She got his button open and his fly down. When she touched his erection to put the condom on, he drove his head back into the seat and closed his eyes. She unrolled the rubber. He finally put his hands under her skirt. His thumb found her clit and she grabbed the seat behind him so hard the upholstery ripped.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"Be gentle with me."

"I will," She touched his chest. "I promise."

"I'm kidding. Hurt me. It's awesome." He shoved her panties aside and lowered her onto his cock. Even though she'd been wet, it still felt like too much. She hadn't been with anybody in almost two years, hadn't even bothered to masturbate in weeks because she'd been too stressed out. He gazed up into her face. When she moved, he bit his lower lip. She could have gotten off just watching his expression changing in response to each stroke. He touched her and he felt so good inside that she came fast. She shouted at the same time he screamed. They clung to each other, still connected with him hard inside her.

"I'm sorry," he said, softly. "I have to take this off."

"Oh, right," Buffy slid off of him. He removed the condom and tied the end. Dean was about to throw it out the window.

"Stop, that's littering." Buffy said.

"What do you want me to do with it?"

"Empty coffee cup in the front."

Dean leaned forward and tucked the garbage into her empty Starbucks container. He sat back down next to her and she cuddled up to him.

"At least we're not in Kansas, or we'd have to cremate it and send a letter of apology to a government-approved list of churches," Buffy said.

Dean smiled at her. Slowly, his expression went serious. She dreaded what he'd say next.

"I'm sorry I hurt you. I wish I could say I'd never do it again, but I probably will. Sammy and me messed things up so many times. But we could always fix it because we're family."

"You're not saying I'm like your sister, because that makes what we just did a whole lot of yuck."

"No." He looked away from her, grimacing his way to a smile. "I love you."

She wasn't sure what to say. While she was trying to work out the angles of why he'd said it, what it meant, he nodded in a resigned sort of way. He got out of the car. She panicked for a second, until he got in the front seat. Buffy got out and went to the passenger side.

"What do you want to do?" she asked.

"Find a place where we can dig a shallow grave and dump our brainless Romeo."

"After that?"

He wore that terrible smile again. "That's up to you. I can be out of your hair in a couple days, unless you want me to take off tonight. Chalk up what happened to the stress of the foxhole, if you know what I mean."

"I love you, too."

"You don't have to say that."

"I know, but I do. It's hard for me to say sometimes-"

"No, I get you. Feelings are hard." He winked at her and smiled.


	15. Chapter 15

A body covered in earth, pinned down the old way with a stake through the heart and iron in its mouth. Dirt concealing their part in its death, safe until it shifted away. By the time they finished digging and burying, the sun had come up, cloaked in a white fog. She was so tired the lights felt sharp to her eyes. The world seemed to crackle and buzz as they pulled into the hotel lot. He parked and they got out of the car. She thought Dean was happy by the way he smiled at her when she handed him the key card, but she didn't know. They hadn't talked much in the car. Maybe he was jet lagged, or maybe this was part of his rhythm. It was okay—she was tired, too. She just hoped he didn't regret all the emotional honesty. It wasn't really his thing.

"This is swanky," he said.

She snorted. "It's a Ramada Inn."

"Me and Sam usually skip chains."

"I get you, but they took cash. If anybody asks, I checked in under Buffy Vanderpump." She unlocked the hotel room door. They went inside-the room was generic, a garish patterned green and gold carpet with white on white set her bag down next to the bed.

"I'm going to take a shower. You want to conserve water with me?"

"One of us should probably keep watch."

"Right."

Disappointed, she went into the bathroom alone. She sat on the toilet and pulled off her mucky, brown ankle boot.

Buffy shed the rest of her clothes and got into the white stall. The water pressure wasn't as good as the bunker's, but at least it didn't dribble out like the last hotel. She unwrapped the soap, dragged it across her skin. Mud mixed with the bubbles. Washing away the earth from a grave always felt like a rebirth, the water on her face a surprise gift. She'd been given another day. Buffy rinsed herself clean and shut off the water. The towel scratched her skin as she tied it tight around her chest.

Dean sat on the edge of the bed, his feet bare.

"Are we safe?" Buffy asked.

"We're good."

She walked over to him and stood close, his legs on either side of hers. He reached up to cup her face, pulling her down to him. While he kissed her mouth, he took her towel off. He grasped her breasts and rolled her nipples between his fingers. They'd talked about this so many times before, she could hardly believe it was finally happening. Not hurried, not a million miles apart. He was right under her hands. She tugged his shirt off. Buffy thought she might spend an hour just kissing him.

"I want you," he said.

"Show me." She grabbed a handful of his hair. He knelt on the floor.

"Take everything off," she said.

He wriggled out of his jeans. She helped him take down his boxers using her big toe. There was no trace of a smirk as he nuzzled between her legs. He licked and sucked like he was made for it. She found it hard to stay stern, but she did her best. More than once, he told her how badly he wanted her to force him to go down on her and she wanted to make it good for him.

There were things that were hard for him to admit to himself, like how he wanted her to dominate him. It had taken hours of talking over the phone in the dark, because the impulse was all bundled up with so many different kinds of shame. He wanted her to hold him down but being chained up just made him anxious. Hand cuffs and ropes were too much like real life, but a girl like her—impossible in her strength—was everything he'd never known he needed.

She came so hard she couldn't stand. He held her up and then set her on the bed. They got under the covers. She started stroking his erection while he moaned into her neck. So many times she'd seen his own hand moving up and down, getting hard for her. The sight was committed to memory. She watched from a new angle as her own small hand gripped his cock. Light filtered through the white bed sheets, leaving a pale cross-hatched pattern on his skin. She stared into his face. His eyes were squeezed shut and he was panting through parted lips.

"Should I make you wait until tomorrow?" she asked.

The question was part of what they'd talked about in those whispered conversations. Dean opened his eyes.

"Please, don't make me wait."

She was supposed to deny him, make him suffer, but she couldn't do it just then. For months she'd been waiting to have him live and in person. She needed to taste him. Buffy crawled down his body. He yelled when she wrapped her lips around his cock.

"Fuck—oh fuck I love you."

Tentatively, he touched the back of her head as she bobbed up and down. She rubbed the back of his thighs, let her hands roam up to his stomach. He bucked his hips, gagging her. She didn't stop, no matter how wild his thrusting got. He screamed her name as he finished. She curled up on his chest.

"You're awesome," he said.

"I love you, too."


	16. Chapter 16

Castiel entered through the front door of the house he shared with Dawn. He could've appeared by her in the bedroom, where he knew she would be, but she craved the formality of approaching her as a human being would. She called it normalcy. He knew it was only a remnant of her former restrictions. He didn't begrudge her these strictures. Sometimes restrictions, even self-placed, were necessary to maintain order. He knew that better than anyone.

The home he shared with Dawn looked much the way her parents' house in Los Angeles had in the early 1990's. Even though Dawn had never really lived there, her notions of comfort and safety were based upon it. Everything was pastel or white and a bit ostentatious, much to Hank Summer's style.

Castiel went up the spiral staircase, then down the sunlit hall to the bedroom he shared with Dawn. She lied huddled beneath a white comforter with the gray ball that was their cat, Sir Galahad. He knocked on the open door. She poked her head up, her eyes red and bleary from crying.

"Were they okay? Did you talk to Buffy?" Dawn asked.

Castiel walked into the room, easing out of his raincoat as he moved. "They were engaged in unconventional lovemaking. It seemed the wrong time to bother them."

"How unconventional?" Dawn held up her hand, "Wait, I don't want to know. Dammit, gah, I already know. Their safe word is Magillicutty but Dean can't say it with the gag in his mouth."

"I'll let her know." Castiel concentrated to send a word of warning to Buffy. Their union was new and they still had a lot to figure out.

Dawn looked into the distance, her eyes seeing something that was a world away.

"Ok, she got it." Dawn covered her head with the blanket. "I have to block them again or I'll need brain bleach."

Castiel knew she wasn't being literal. The first time she'd accidentally witnessed a loved one in sexual congress, she'd begged him to erase the memory, but then got upset when he offered to do it. The way Dawn played with the language was similar to Dean and like Dean it had taken him a while to get used to it, but he was learning.

He continued to undress, undoing the buttons on his cuff. Dawn peeked out from her cocoon of blankets to watch him take the clothes off. She liked the way his body looked, which gave her a great deal of guilt since it wasn't really his body. Even though she knew Jimmy was dead and living a heavenly reward, he couldn't convince her it wasn't wrong. Her guilt sometimes added to her sexual excitement. Though he couldn't pretend to understand this human quirk, he'd been able to share it with her. He'd stopped trying to assuage her guilt because of the ugly joy it gave her.

She watched the way his arm muscles moved when he took off his shirt. In other realities she could hardly see this aspect of him, this human part. The hair curling on his stomach, the way his fingers moved when he unlaced his belt. Typically he saw her human form and her key form simultaneously. Here he only saw her body and he'd learned to respond to it the usual animal way. He'd been worried about that when she first broached the topic of sex. When he lost his grace, he'd had sex and enjoyed it. Longed for it. But as he recovered his angelic form, the desire waned. Since communing with Dawn, her humanity had become his and reignited those dead feeling.

The clothing against his skin irritated him. Their dimension had opened him up to tactile sensations in a different way than he experienced them on earth, and at times it was an overwhelming distraction. He just wanted to feel silent and peaceful. He needed to feel Dawn's skin against his for that type of quiet. She dampened everything else. Sometimes she could cancel out the entire world. Dawn Summers. She was the first shaft of light that lifted the oppression of darkness; she was flowers flourishing in the heat, an earth alive with God's perfect creation. Her eyes were the blue oceans, her hair a warm breeze against his cheek.

He wasn't being poetic. She was all these and so much more. She was human. Here she needed him to be her lover the way a human would. He had been uncomfortable at first, but soon became obsessed with this part of their relationship. He could lie with her and let their potential shrink down together until he could fill her completely.

This was what human beings felt when their love was requited. For so long he'd loved in isolation, the feelings beyond his comprehension. She hadn't just shared her power to restore him. She'd given him insight into who he was and what he wanted. He understood himself better because she'd showed his own heart to him. Throughout his long life he'd admired human beings on earth and other angels in his command. He'd longed for mutual possession and familiarity—to belong. He'd found a measure of that with Sam and Dean, but never to the degree he'd wanted. Castiel had always wanted to share this consuming love with Dean, but he'd never understood that before. Dawn picked up on his thoughts and smiled at him.

"They're going to be okay for a while, we didn't screw it up too bad."

She reached her arms out to him, displacing the cat, who walked away with an affronted whimper. Dawn looked smaller than when he left. He got under the covers and she wrapped her arms around him. He held her in kind and found that his initial assessment was correct. She'd gotten thinner in his absence.

"You need to eat, Dawn. You're still a human being," Castiel said. She hated when he chided her, but instead of frowning at him, she merely closed her eyes.

"I don't get hungry here."

"You're losing track of your body's needs."

"Not really. My body is pretty sure it needs you."

He grabbed her face and tilted her mouth up to his. They could be like this for eternity, he thought, he could kiss her forever and ever.

She answered him without speaking, showing him the moment of her death in his mind. He would cling to her physical form as it disintegrated and would be devoured in the ensuing explosion. They would be blasted apart, taking the world with them. Then the energy would reform into another universe.

Dawn hadn't meant to show this to him, but it replayed in her mind over and over again when he kissed her, when he touched her. Like he was now, spreading her legs apart, his clumsy, borrowed body entered hers, slick and sliding. They were doomed, they were already dead, they were going to live this moment forever. She bit into his shoulder. Even after the obliteration of the universe he would still be pumping inside of her small, fragile body with his small, fragile body, because together they could touch something beyond time. Her thoughts began to spiral even further out of control.

"Let me please you," he whispered.

"I want to," She turned her face away. "My head won't stop."

"Concentrate on me."

She looked up at him and he knew she was thinking about his eyes. To her they were very pretty. He bugged them out a bit and she laughed. This was a pantomime of innocence that he'd lost long ago, but she still found it amusing. The first time he'd ever noticed her noticing his eyes, he'd tried to make them more prominent by opening them wide. She'd laughed. Now it was one of their private jokes.

She traced the outline of his lips with the tip of her finger. He kissed her again and again, seeing himself through her perceptions. She could feel the same, amplifying the sensuality of the moment. His love poured through her and flowed back to him. She was his Goddess and he was her Angel. Castiel knew he worshipped her with more fervor than his father. He believed in her wholly and his devotion was complete. Their love was a blasphemy for which he had no wish to be forgiven.

This revelation finally brought her thoughts back to him and he was able to make her orgasm. He finished right after. They held each other in quiet pleasure and shared their thoughts.

"I don't know if I can go back, Cas".

"Time doesn't pass here. You can take as long as you need to decide."

"I don't think I need it. My life there has no meaning outside Buffy. Before I met you, I wanted to know as much as I could, preserve it for generations. Now, I am knowledge, I am history. When I die, I'll preserve every human experience while I'm destroying it. I can't go to work every day pretending I'm still me. And when I stop aging, what is everybody going to think?"

"Your sister's life is so brief, Dawn. You will regret missing that experience."

"I've already lived it with her, just now while you were gone. I screwed things up by trying to prevent them. I killed Dean. I know you love him and you need to be near him. I won't ever stop you. But I can't come with you."

"I understand."

With lowered eyes, he kissed her hand, conceding the argument. Then he looked directly at her. "But I think you should say goodbye first. For Buffy and for you."

"I'll think about it."


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17-In Hell I'll Be In Good Company

Faith looked down at Deena, suckling at her breast. The baby was asleep, the frothy milk collecting at the corner of her tiny, baby lips. Faith stuck her finger gently into Deena's little mouth to get her to unlatch. The suction broke and Deena didn't wake up. Carefully, Faith stood with her daughter in her arms. She set Deena in her crib, hoping she would continue to sleep. It worked. Deena barely stirred, just lying there like a baby loaf.

As she walked out of the room, Faith touched her breasts. They were so freaking sensitive and she never stopped producing milk. It was supposed to be every three hours, but she seemed to need constant milking. It made her feel more like a cow than a person.

Faith went down the long hallway to Sam's "office." He called it an office but it was really a work out room with a lap top. More often than not he wasn't reading anything or making notes, he would be on the treadmill or lifting weights. She approached his room and could see through the open door that Sam was doing push-ups. As she got closer, he heard her footsteps. Sam jumped to his feet, like a floppy puppy coming to greet its master at the door.

"Hey, she sleeping?" He padded up to her, a huge grin on his face.

"Finally." She rubbed her sore neck. "Are you ready for bed?"

"Sure, let me take a shower, though."

"You can't smell worse than I do."

Sam gave her a half smile and dragged his hand up her bare arm. "You could always jump in with me."

"And if the baby wakes up—"

"Right." He shook his head. "We could take turns."

"Why don't we ever fuck anymore?"

"Excuse me?" Sam looked prissy and confused. She didn't know what pissed her off more since he had to know exactly what she was talking about.

"Like in dinosaur land we'd fuck in the mud, I didn't shave for three years, getting pregnant coulda killed me. You didn't care then. Now we've got this big ass bed and running water. I got an IUD and all kinds of fruity lube and we haven't fucked since the baby was born."

"I cared about getting you pregnant, Faith. We didn't have penetrative sex for two years."

"Gross, why did you have to say penetrative?"

"What am I supposed to say?" He threw his hands up.

"It doesn't matter. Just tell me why you don't want me now."

"I do!" He shouted, then remembered they had a barely sleeping baby and continued in a harsh whisper, "I do, but you just had a baby. I've been waiting on you, to move at your pace."

"Well, let's pick up the pace." She grabbed his hand and practically dragged him down the hall to their bedroom.

"Whoah." He laughed a little but she knew he was freaked out. They staggered into their room, with the big king-sized bed so Sam's feet wouldn't dangle off the end. The sheets and the comforter were all silky and red, to match the red silk wall paper. When Giles had been alive, he'd called that space the Hunter's Room because of all the animal horns and vampire artifacts on the walls. Sam had immediately fallen in love with it, because of course. She'd loved it, too, but now she felt sad being in there. Like it wasn't theirs anymore. Sam sat down on the bed, his legs splayed apart. He gave her that look, the one that meant he wouldn't start touching her until they worked it out. She hated that look.

"What's wrong, Faith?"

"I told you. Now let's do this." She scooched out of her pajama pants, then whipped off her shirt. She still had on her gross nursing bra, so it spoiled the impact. And she had stretch marks. Her pussy probably got banged out of shape pretty bad, so who even knew if that would feel good to either of them anymore. No wonder he didn't want to fuck her. She folded her arms over her chest, suddenly ashamed. Sam didn't seem to notice.

"What's really wrong. You know I want you. Now come on."

She sat down next to him, shivering.

"You're different, and I don't know if it's because your brother is with you now, or because you've got this big job now, but I don't even feel like we're together anymore."

"Faith, no." He put his arms around her, all warm and reassuring. "I'm so sorry, babe. I've been distracted. Everything is new to me and trying to take care of Deena. You're a natural with her but it was harder for me."

"You're great with her, it's not that." She felt guilty for making him feel bad.

"I never thought I'd find someone like you. Never thought I'd do the dad thing. I'm learning on the ground and I don't want to lose you."

She tucked her face against his chest.

"I like the way your dirty armpits smell," she mumbled.

He smiled. "Maybe when Dean gets back, we can go on a date night."

Thinking of Dean made her skin prickle with anxiety.

"When did he ask you to paint the car?"

Sam seemed thrown.

"On the way to the airport. Why?"

"Did he tell you why?"

"I assumed he got out of a scrape while he was driving it."

"He didn't tell you anything else?"

"No, it was late, we weren't talking much. What happened? Tell me."

"You know that little girl who got kidnapped last week, the third grader?"

"No. I haven't been following the news."

"Well, she got taken and I had a hunch about it, so I went to our cabin today to poke around. I found the ID from her school in the closet, Sammy."

"Holy—" Sam ran his hands through his sweaty hair. "You think Dean took her? Was she possessed?"

"I think Angel took her and Dean found out about it."

Sam got up. "We need to find her. If he lost his soul again, she could be in danger."

Faith rose, putting her hands on his arms. "The kid is safe. She's home with her mom. The description of the guy who rescued her sounds like Dean."

Sam stopped completely. "When could he have done that? He's been in Kansas."

"The night you dropped him off at the airport, before he left. Angel's been missing for the same amount of time. You figure it out."

She watched as Sam thought about it. He was smarter than most other guys, so it didn't take long. He went from worried, action Sam to serious Sam in a matter of seconds.

"You thought I knew about it, that's why you've been angry at me."

"Yeah."

Sam cupped the sides of her face.

"Dean didn't say anything to me. Nothing at all."

"Angel's dead, isn't he?" Faith started to cry. Sam pulled her in close and she wrapped her arms around his waist.

"We don't know that. We don't really know anything yet."

"Come on, you know your brother. He would have told you if Angel was still alive, especially if he saw him as any kind of threat."

"Maybe Angel's hiding out because she recognized him."

"Dean would've told you."

"Maybe he doesn't know. We can't afford to jump to any conclusions here."

They laid back down on the bed, beneath the covers. Sam kept saying soothing things, calling her babe and petting her back, but it felt like he was a million miles away.

She'd let Angel down and now he was never coming back. Her heart broke for him, and all the good he could do. At the same time, there was a sense of relief, because she hadn't been able to understand what was up with him in months. Since she'd come home with a husband and a baby he'd seemed mad at her. They hadn't had a real conversation in so long. He just lurked around the house bumming everybody out. He hadn't even wanted to hunt with her. Still, he was Angel. There was a time in her life when he was the only person who cared if she lived or died.

"He was the only one who ever visited me in prison."

"Listen, we need to talk to Dean."

"Do you really think Angel's alive?"

"I don't know, but we'll find out. It's afternoon over there, we'll call him." Sam moved to get up but she pulled him back.

"Wait, I need to know who you belong to first," Faith said.

Sam huffed. He didn't approve of her saying she belonged to him, he belonged to her. In dinosaur land, those were the words they had to say in front of their magistrate after they submitted to a thorough inspection of their living space and answered a series of questions. It had taken months to apply for better status. They couldn't really be married there because of what they were. They had the second-class citizen thing going. But she'd liked that idea that they belonged to nothing in that world but each other. Somehow that was missing in this new/old life.

Sam leaned over her and stroked her cheek. He gave her a quick kiss on the lips.

"I belong to you," he said in her ear. She said it back to him. He ran his hand along her hip, dragging a line on her skin until he cupped her between the legs. She was so sensitive, it made her jump in his arms. His fingers skidded a circle around her clit while he kissed her again. Her pussy flooded. She reached for him, and found he was already hard. He shook when she held his penis.

He grabbed both her wrists in one hand and pinned them above her head. Faith could have thrown him off as easily as arching her eyebrow, which was why he could be brazen about pretending to hold her down. He rested his forehead against hers.

"Don't be a good soldier," he said.

"When am I ever?"

He pushed inside of her real slow. She almost bit through her lower lip because the sensation was on the edge of too much.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Does it still feel good?"

"Better." He grinned down at her.

He threaded his fingers through her hair. Faith used her new freedom to grab his ass and pull him in deeper. The intensity made her shout.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

She nodded. "Stop asking me that."

He kept fighting himself to stay gentle—she could see it on his face and the jagged way he moved. She wanted him to let loose, because the half measures were nowhere close to getting her there.

"Wait, babe, I need more," she said.

"Hold on. Show me." He gave her some space, hovering over her in a half push up. They negotiated until her legs were looped over his shoulders.

"You're sure?" he asked.

"Fuck yeah I'm sure."

He sank into her, which made his eyes roll back into his head. Faith bucked her hips and squeezed. Sam lost control with a roar. He pounded her into the mattress. She held onto his forearms for dear life, so hard she knew her fingertips would leave bruises. She got closer and closer. "Don't stop, please don't stop, Sammy."

He started reciting a prayer in Latin. It was like saying magic words to get her to come. An orgasm shook her. Sam thrust faster until he finished, too. He pulled out and then wrapped himself around her. Sam's hand strayed to her breast. The light pressure he put on it made her swat him away.

"No babe, they're leaking."

"Can I taste?" he asked.

She looked askance at him, but he wasn't kidding. He unhooked the cup of her bra, a delicate maneuver with his giant hands. Her curiosity got the better of her, or maybe it was the look in his eyes. When he got wrong it was always really, really interesting.

"You're greedy," she said.

"When it comes to you." He kissed her mouth. "Can I?"

"Yeah, as long as you stop talking about it."

He kissed a trail down her throat all the way to her breast. When she nursed Deena she'd zone out, try not to concentrate on the sensation at all. With Sam's mouth on her chafed, achy nipple it felt different—good in a dirty way. They hadn't had nearly enough of that lately.

She held his head to her chest and watched the tin ceiling. Before long she closed her eyes and there was nothing but him. She arched her back. When he'd drained the left breast, he went to the right one. Once he sated himself, he buried his face in between her thighs. She bucked against his mouth. Every time she got close, he moved away. He'd kiss her hips or just hold her in place. She wasn't sure if he wanted her to beg or if he just missed her that much. Faith started to thrash. He went harder until she finally came. She didn't mean to, but her body was working all on its own and she ended up throwing him off the bed. He slid across the floor and landed against the wall, their comforter covering him.

"I'm so sorry, Sammy," Faith scrambled off the bed and knelt beside him. He was laughing so hard, her concern immediately melted away.

"Don't be. That's what I was aiming for."

"You're such a freak." She kissed him.

They got back in bed and settled into a cuddle. The only time she ever felt safe and protected was in his arms. She'd missed that feeling. When she was afraid he'd been lying to her, she hadn't been able to feel good next to him. Now he felt like hers again. She hoped to God that it was true.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18- Our House

Buffy fought against waking up. Dean's arm felt so nice over chest and the air was cold outside the blankets. But she had to use the bathroom. She kissed his forehead.

"Gotta get up and pee," she said.

"Go for me," he said into the pillow.

"Dork."

He told the same joke every morning, and it was never funny, but somehow it got more endearing each day. They'd only been at the bunker a week, but they'd already fallen into a rhythm. There had been a couple bumps, though.

The first morning she'd gotten up before him and didn't wake him up, he'd freaked out searching for her. He came into the kitchen while she'd been making coffee with his silver knife in his hand. After he realized she was okay, he'd hugged her so hard, then tried to play it off for the rest of the day like nothing had happened.

After they'd made love that night and were laying in complete darkness, touching for sight, she'd finally gotten him to talk about what happened.

"I know you hate it when I talk about Lisa—" he said.

"No, I get it's a frame of reference thing."

"I could never relax all the way because of everything. Mostly Ben. She'd fall asleep before me. I'd wake up before her. With you it's different. I sleep better than I have, ever. I used to be a real light sleeper, though and when I woke up without you here, it felt wrong. I thought something happened to you, and then my crazy got to me. Once I got attacked by a Djinn, and I thought maybe it was happening again. It was stupid, but after everything that's happened…"

"You thought I was imaginary?"

"Like I said, my crazy got the better of me."

"Does that means I'm your perfect?" she asked, grinning. He didn't say anything for a second. She got scared that she'd said something wrong, when he pressed a kiss to her lips.

"I don't say things like that out loud, because it's like asking fate to take it away. Do you know what I mean?" he asked.

"Yeah, I think I do."

After that, she always woke him before she got up.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19-The Shape I'm In

Buffy went into the kitchen and made a pot of coffee. Everything was set to brew. She turned away from the counter to grab a couple mugs from the cupboard, nearly bumping into Dawn. Buffy yelped.

"I'm sorry, I swear I thought I was better at this reappearing thing." Dawn hugged her.

"It's okay. I'm glad you're finally here! Where's Cas?"

"Running an errand for me. I can't stay too long."

"Don't say that, Dawnie! We're finally in the bunker together. Let me show you around."

Dawn gave her a pinched smile. "Okay. Show me around."

Buffy gave Dawn the tour. Even though her sister made the appropriate oohs and awws, Buffy knew something was wrong. They returned to the kitchen. Buffy poured two cups of coffee and they sat down at the table.

"This isn't just a visit/visit, is it?" Buffy asked.

"No," Dawn took a sip from her mug. "I've said goodbye to you a lot today."

"What?" Buffy was scared.

"This is the last time I'm going to see you, but it won't be the last time you see me. I went backwards in time. I wanted the last time I see you to be like this, when you're happy."

"Dawn, no. That doesn't make sense."

"It will." Dawn laughed. "I mess things up just by being here. The safest thing for me to do now is not to interact, just to observe. It's crazy. The whole reason I wanted to become research guru was to protect you. Now I know everything and it just hurts you even more. I'm sorry, Buffy,"

"Don't be sorry. Don't leave." Buffy grabbed a hold of Dawn's wrist.

"I love you. I need you to know that."

"Dawn, we have to talk about this."

"This isn't really goodbye, not for you. So you don't need to cry, okay?" Tears spilled out of Dawn's eyes. She reached out and squeezed Buffy's shoulder. "You're going to be really happy for a long time. I know part of you doesn't think that's a thing you can be, because you're you, but I'm telling you—today your life is going to get better."

"How can that be when I'm losing you?"

"You're not losing me. It's just a change, that's all." Dawn sniffled. "Dean, come out and sit down with us. You're not interrupting anything."

Dean walked into the room from where he'd been hovering in the hallway. "It sounded like things were gettin' kind of deep in here."

"It's okay. I've got to go, but I'll be seeing you," Dawn vanished, leaving Buffy to clutch at empty air. Buffy sat there, looking at the space where her sister had been.

"Are you okay?" Dean asked.

"No."

He walked over to her and knelt beside her. "What happened?"

"Dawn's gone. She said it wasn't like that, but I know her. She's gone."

"I'm sorry."

For a second she regretted the nature of her life, but only a second. If she'd been someone else, Dawn would never have been her sister and Dean would never have washed up on her shore. Of all the people in the world who knew how she felt, it was him.

He kissed her forehead, then her lips. It wasn't so much a romantic gesture as one of compassion. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, grateful he was there. She let go of him when she realized he was shifting uncomfortably, waiting for her to break contact first. He stood, and hopped off of her chair, a little embarrassed.

"What do you want to do, Buffy?"

"Crawl back in bed with you, but not in the fun way."

"We can do that." He smiled at her and she felt the tight knot forming in her stomach loosen a little.

Buffy hugged his waist. "Dawn said we'd be happy for a long time."

"That sounds good. Let's do that, too."

"Maybe we can start tomorrow," she said as they walked back to their room.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20-Back to Black

Faith woke with a start, anticipating the baby crying. She sat up and checked the monitor just to make sure it was still on before glancing at the clock. It was four-thirty. Even though she didn't hear anything, Faith had to see Deena's face before she could get back to sleep.

Sam, sprawled out on his back, barely stirred as she hopped from the bed. He was one of those freaks who looked great asleep, like he was posing for a fucking beefcake calendar with his arm above his head and the sheets draped perfectly around his waist. No drool, no snoring. She wanted to take a picture because he looked so good, but he would have killed her. Instead, she kissed his cheek. He didn't move at all like he normally did. She couldn't help grinning with pride that the sex had wiped him out so good. Faith found her discarded pajamas on the floor and put them back on.

A quick trip down the hall and a peek in at Deena, who was sound asleep, reassured her completely. For a second, Faith lingered in the doorway, soothed by her daughter's even breathing. Deena's chubby cheeks were rosy, her dark hair a pile of fluffy curls. It was corny as hell, but Faith couldn't help feeling like it was impossible somebody so perfect could have come from her. Faith left the room, gently closing the door behind her.

Then, like ice water trickling into a warm bath, she sensed an unwelcome presence disturbing the peace of her home. All the hair on her arms stood up. She turned around to see Castiel standing at the top of the stairs.

"Jesus Christ, Cas. What the fuck are you doing?" Faith didn't relax even though she recognized the angel and his habit of showing up unannounced.

"Where's Dawn?" she asked.

"Saying goodbye to her sister."

"What, is there something going down? Is Dean okay?"

"Dean's fine. Nothing unusual is happening. Dawn's presence in this universe is creating instability. She's retiring from this world before it causes a problem."

"What about you? Is this you saying goodbye?"

"No. There's something important I need to show you." He stepped toward her. She fell into a defensive stance. "I'm not going to hurt you, Faith. I need to touch your forehead."

"K." She frowned as he lifted his hand, ready to break his finger if he made a wrong move.

His stare kind of freaked her out, like there was something blank inside of him. Angels didn't have souls and they wore people the same way demons did. In Cas' case, he wore a dead guy suit, like freaking Ed Gein. The guy was only dead because of the angel, too. She knew Sam was his friend and stuff, but she kind of hated Cas for that. More than anything, she hated to be touched by him.

The moment he made contact the room around her changed.

Faith found herself standing in Angel's basement apartment, the one that didn't exist anymore because it burned down. This was the place he'd taken her after she'd tortured Wes.

"Cas, what the fuck?" Faith jumped away from him.

"We're here to speak with Liam." Castiel lowered his hand slowly, that weird, intent look on his face. He stepped aside and she could see Angel standing directly behind him. Faith ran over to him and practically jumped into his open arms.

"Angel!" She squeezed him tight. "I thought you were dust."

He looked down at her, sheepish. "I am."

Faith gasped, and twisted in Angel's arm to catch Castiel's eye. "What is this, Cas?"

"This place is like heaven, or as near to it as Liam can get."

Angel gazed into her face, the sweetest expression in his eyes she'd ever seen. For the first time he wasn't worried about something else and his smile was bright. She felt happy just being with him.

"I'm forgiven, Faith. It's what I've always wanted, but I could never get there on my own. There was just too much in my past."

"How?" Faith asked.

"God intervened on Liam's behalf at my request," Castiel said.

"God God?" She looked askance at Cas.

"The creator of all things." Castiel said.

"Why wouldn't God just bring Angel back, like he did with you, Cas?"

Angel brushed Faith's hair back. "I wanted things to be over. No more struggle. No more pain. I'm done, Faith. Stardust. I wanted to say goodbye to you. You were the only person who never lost faith in me. I guess that's kind of fitting."

Faith hugged him tighter. "I'll miss you."

"Me too." Angel bent down and kissed Faith. When their lips brushed, white light exploded all around her. Angel's silhouette burned black before her, like a photo negative, even when she closed her eyes.

"Angel!" Faith shouted.

She opened her eyes to find herself standing at the top of the stairwell in her house, the familiar moss green walls and battered oriental rug beneath her feet. Castiel stood in front of her where Angel used to be. She jumped back from him.

"Was that real, or are you fucking with me?" she asked.

"It was real. Angel's soul burned away, just as his body did. He's not coming back this time."

"Why did you show me that?" Faith hugged herself. Her stomach hurt and she felt like she would start crying. Cas stared at her with that same stupid mask of a face.

He put his hand on her shoulder, "You're feeling sick?"

"Get the fuck off me." She shoved him away. Faith tromped down the hallway. She could hear him following her, when suddenly he stood in front of her. She banged into his chest.

"What's your problem?" She tried to move around him.

He stepped in front of her, like they were doing a dance. "I need to explain."

"Explain what? Angel's gone, he's not coming back. Dean—" She couldn't finish her thought. If Dean did kill Angel, the creature in front of her would know. He'd confirm it and then she'd have to do something. She raked her fingers through her hair.

Castiel stood coolly before her, immobile.

"I visited Maribella Jones. I fixed the chemical imbalance in her brain that would have led her to believe the government was controlling her thoughts. She'll never hurt anyone now."

"That's why Angel kidnapped her?"

"More or less. It's your choice to forgive Dean, but I thought if you knew these things, it might make your decision easier."

"I know you're like, his guardian angel and everything, but he didn't tell a little lie. I don't know if I can trust him again."

"If it helps, he thought he was protecting your daughter."

"It doesn't, because that means he doesn't think I know my own business."

Cas sighed. "As Bobby would say, he has more love than sense."

"You make it sound cute. I guess to you it is—all us stupid people, so little and cute. He murdered my best friend."

"To save a child."

"Stop it! Stop defending him." She shoved Cas' chest with the flats of her palms, except he didn't budge. She used her full strength, but he didn't falter.

"You're stronger than your mother in every way, Faith. You won't let your daughter down, I promise you."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Everything," Castiel said, right before he vanished.


End file.
